Attitude Wins

If I measure progressby “used-to’s”illness and age win I used to play tennisspeed and muscleease of ambition This place, the nexus of how life has changed,teaches me appreciation Frost in my veinspermanent, warmthof memories aglow. (Image my own.Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson)

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Beat Goes On

Big band galasSeaside dancehallsSwing dancingMen in uniformMemory-soakeddaydreams likeshots of adrenalinearthritic fingers tapto a distant tune. (Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson.Image my own)

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First Love

Endings berry-colouredsentimentsresting on a shelf Nostalgiadoesn’t give a lickabout failurescherishes emotion No amountof cunning can erasethe sweet taste of first love. (Image my own)

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Rainbows

Nostalgia casts rainbowsover stormy passagesWhy is darkness so alluring? I breathe passion into lossessoul revolting against the lightcommitted to seduction of perhaps Where is the wisdom in this brooding?Naïve rumination seldom begets the goldbest to look away when rainbows appear. (For Eugi’s Weekly Challenge: rainbows. Image my own.)

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Mothers Have Regrets

Fancy myself pragmaticbut these cherubic facesrender me nostalgic Not for the times –for they were hard –but for the ideal lost Speculate on failingsshallow expectations,pray I did enough. (Found this old photograph of my two girls.)

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Alone

Soft, the day’s fading light, hushed, the manic pace – my heart’s rhythm lulled beats a nostalgic melody – love’s memories bittersweet. (Tuesdays, I post a poem from Twitter.  You can follow me @Vjknutson.  Image from personal collection.)

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Faulty Vision

Cupped hands gather tears dreams once clear now misted, gone – nostalgic ideals. (Written for RonovanWrites Weekly Haiku Challenge: water/ smoke.  Also for Reena’s Exploration challenge – image featured.)

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Cedar Waxwing

A spot of red and dash of yellow bandana masked eyes how you transport me to simpler times – childhood days when you and I wiled away hours hidden deep beneath summer canopies – maple, beech and willow – listened for whispers on the wind, searched for treasure on rocky creek bottom. Years since our […]

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Looking Back

Years when children, perpetually in motion, required a referee – Mom’s energy replete so ephemeral now – time having vanished, weariness lingering, savouring memory blurs. (Inspired by my grandchildren, and the prompts of Ragtag Community: ephemeral, and Fandango: referee. Image from personal collection.)

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Stewing Nostalgic

We devour old times – two clouded, broken-eyed, cat and dog – fishing sacred out of vast champagne night. I may linger, eat air, an ocean – that delicious thing – fool to heal this moist open throb & it must work. (My Friday muse is online magnetic poetry.)

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