You show us that Wren has some closure and reassurance concerning his father. More importantly, you give him Caleb in a deeper and more lasting love. I would agree with other readers that Wade appears to be a character who is at best difficult to redeem. What happens next, both with Caleb and Wren’s relationship and to the rest of the family will prove very interesting. I’m looking forward to it.
This is such a delightful and yet powerful exchange. Both David and Maurice recognize what they have found in one another in no way diminishes what they had before. That one thing is enough to change their worlds entirely.
The gutless way Max cut Simon off is cowardly and cruel. Unfortunately, it seems to be increasingly acceptable. I feel bad for Simon, who essentially got used and tossed aside. On the other hand, was he also using Max in his own way?
Sometimes you need a doubting voice. But now you need one of unconditional reassurance and support. Your poem conveys this deep need so clearly. You’re not alone.
You have hit the phrase perfectly... the joy of release. Perhaps I’ll go back to studying mud puddles and leaves and snowflakes... Thank you for reading this, and for your thoughts.
Those days yet linger under the hot July sun. Gone so quickly, yet appearing endless as we got off that bus, once. I’m glad this struck a chord with you.
It was such fun to watch this bus on its last run of this school year. I’m glad your memories of those days bring you smiles. Thanks so much for reading this one.
Thank you very much, Mac. Summertime, that endless carpet of green warm days, is such a wonderful time. And I’m glad I’m not the only one who recalls that phrase for a school bus.
You made me grin at your recognition of the dry New England humor.
You’re so right. We’re not nearly as regular and habitual as we might think. I wonder what stories about people wolves tell their cubs.
I’m convinced that there are memory spirits all around the old place. I’m sure the hemlock wants to keep track of what the neighbors are up to as much as my grandmother ever did.
Your comments are thoughtful, generous and kind. I’m very, very grateful.
These are two great woodland friends. Videos leave for the south early, but Carolina Wrens stay as long as there is food. Thanks for reading these, and for your comments.
I watched the yellow bus quiver and shake,
its red lights flashing one last time
in the bright June sun;
through popped-out doors they tumbled out,
a few more prisoners set free,
backpacks bouncing like sunlight through glass,
running to join friends already on their long parole,
anticipating adventure.
And as that cheesewagon offed brakes with a groan
and pulled away,
still one young freed inmate remained,
shoes off,
in an