In the silence, dog licks her paw.
“She’s going to make me pay
for this for a while,” he says.
She licks.
A nail clipped too short,
a swath of blood on hard,
wood floor. Yesterday,
his worried look as I
walked through the door.
Today, concerned words
breaking the silence.
“It’s the sound of healing,
her licking.” I say the words,
catching them on white paper
in the morning light.
Use your pen,
I read on the page of a book,
glance away, glance back,
and notice what it really says.
Use your pain.
What’s the difference…?
This pen, filling moments
of silence, sounds of scratching,
a Sharpie roller.05 trailing
black ink on a page…
The sounds of healing,
writing us home.
Lovely!
This is great, Deb! I love it when our pens, or typing fingers make an existential slip. I also love how you’ve packed so much meaning into so few words. Well done, my friend.
Love this.
Thanks, Larry!
Appreciate it, David. I love this: “existential slip.” It could be a great title! 😃
🌷💞
The sound of healing…beautiful, Deb!
Thanks so much for stopping by, Wynne! 🩷
And btw, I was just reading and commenting on your wonderful recent posts and might have posted twice or not at all…ugh. Will try again next time❤️and you never fail to bring me joy!
Wonderful Deb. You write so well.
I also just finished your book. Loved your dad’s stories, serious working faith and such a life well lived.
Gary, I just love that you read Dad’s stories. There are so many similarities between you two…”serious working faith and such…”❤️🙏