A New Place to Dream.

Posted on Posted in Storytelling.


Life is a spiral, with one circle ending and another simultaneously beginning; layering and weaving thick histories and memories that ultimately makeup our very personal stories.

My own personal story is evolving once again, as I prepare to move into a new house; the house of my dreams; the sort of place where writers create and imagine and bring to life another overlapping circle of alternate characters and plots.

So I wrote this, a poem of the end of one such circle—meeting the beginning of another.

It’s soft sunlight, with husband holding my face between thick fingers and rays of setting, kitchen-evening sun.

It’s wife-opening heartache of new opportunities to flail terribly against currents of crisp thresholds.

It’s mommyheart kisses, scraped hands, falling on new porch steps.

It’s Christmas-tree lighting in a different nook near cold, slowly-warming-from-coming-inside memories of pink cheeks and snow-trodden shoe-print trails, dragged across another worn wooden floor.

It’s hips swaying, music driving, new stovetop bubbling, different sink washing, apron-hanging kitchen dancing routines.

It’s possibilities and dreams nestled tightly into fresh corners of my family circle; it’s feet carving grooves that will spin a deeper domestic heartbeat.



Photo: Flickr/Meg Wills.

2 thoughts on “A New Place to Dream.

  1. How beautifully you blend the leaving and the going forth. The memories and the newness. I love the kitchen images best, but feel the deep connections to the sense of family traditions that follow us and make home wherever we are together.

    1. Thank you! Yes, kitchen is so important to us. Wish you were closer for some cooking and dancing, love <3

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