by Deb Farris | Jan 30, 2018 | Musings
You walked with me that day even though you had a blister covering the corner of your heel from our hike the day before. The Tucson sun beat down on the exposed skin of your neck and calves, turning them pink even though you took extra care with the sunscreen. But the...
by Deb Farris | Jan 27, 2018 | Musings
Don’t tell her I’m coming I won’t Let it be a surprise I will Does she suspect? I don’t think so Not sure…? I said nothing I’ll stay back when we land That’s a plan Let her think it’s just you Will do I’ll take my...
by Deb Farris | Jan 26, 2018 | Musings
Old white van parked on the roadside, mud speckled in snow. Marble streaks and tire tracks from window frame could be a photograph. Consider miles traveled through rain and ice, her engine puttering sparks of life as shiny sedans and semi road hogs blast their horns....
by Deb Farris | Jan 23, 2018 | Musings
From kitchen window broom stands against garage door, askew. What lies beyond the door of this day—off center, all lopsided and cockeyed? I rinse my cup and listen to water rushing from the faucet through my fingers. Cup shines. What can bear a stain? Day unfolds in...
by Deb Farris | Jan 21, 2018 | Devotions
Moods of water float with ease on ice, broken. Let yours too. Water is drawn to rocky shores near naked sand. So am I. What is Love that it should shine through the dark night of my soul? What is darkness that it should reveal the Light of your love? Through fogs of...
