Photo courtesy of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
This week is a twofer. I had an idea for a poem come to mind first, then the dialogue followed. This shadow box reminded me of one my mother had. I saw it as a dust collector, but after she died, I really wanted to ask her about why she’d collected each little thing. What seemed trivial while she lived was suddenly a mystery once she was gone. Ephemera, flotsam and jetsam, the trail left by our lives is easily erased.
Happy birthday to Rochelle – and thank you for your willingness to make this happen each week. Friday is also my daughter’s birthday. Happy #22 to you, dear Laurel!
Word Count: 93
We are young but for a moment
childhood flashing by on hummingbird wings.
Treasures lined up in our mind,
safely stored in shadowy spaces.
Memories rich with meaning –
tucked away, glowing steadily,
beacons against the gathering dusk of our days.
– Mommy, why do you have a clown in your treasure box?
– Well, it reminds me of a fun day I had when I was about your age.
– Do you like clowns?
– I did then, Honey. Clowns always made me laugh.
– Like daddy does now?
– Exactly – just like that.
– That’s what I thought.
Please check out the links to all the other Flash Friday Fictioneers, which can be found here.
© Erin Leary