Here in Applachia …
land of heavy snowfalls, frost, rime ice and mistletoe
winter seems to have passed us by returning to Spring
daffodils and irises are sprouting through the brown, soggy ground
record rainfalls, fog and plenty of clouds
Where’s winter asks the worms as they squirm along the pavement looking for their home in the darkness of the earth
Where’s winter asks the fish in the pond as they swim around, confused by warm temperatures, sunshine, short days and rain
Where’s winter asks the trees as they sway back and forth confused by the winds of an early Spring…instead of Winter’s frozen ground
Where’s winter asks the farmers as their fields begin to sprout
Where’s winter asks I as I look about?
© Anita Adams 1/2019
Unpleasant as it may be, the memories of one’s past can be buried deep inside, and some-
… can bring a memory to the present
to be healed
to be released …
* * * * * * *
Imagine a balloon, red, blue, yellow or green.
Open the mind.
Place the memory inside.
Tie the memory balloon with string and knot.
Now, let it go!
It does not serve me anymore, or anyone I know.
After all, it’s a memory balloon, and must be let go!
©Anita Adams 2018
Dreams, like clouds
visible to the eye
just out of reach
time to pull the clouds down
step on them like a magic carpet
flying high above the pines
to foreign lands and islands
painting rainbows in the sky
smiling all the while
until my heart calls me back to the ground
to play in the sand
find my oak tree
and lay my head down
© Anita Adams 2018