Monthly Archives: November 2013

Through my eyes


Drama Queen

Just . . .
    So . . .
      Sleepy . . .


Single thought


Not a single thought was given when he opened the first bottle just a little past noon, savored the flavor and called it lunch. By three his productivity was lagging and he looked at the clock, wondering if he’d make the five o’clock deadline or just make a quick call and push out delivery till tomorrow.

Not a single thought was given when he stuck one in the drink koozie for the forty-five minute drive ahead, slightly staggering once he reached home. Ten minutes of nonsensical conversation with the wife then stop off at the fridge for another on the way out to the man cave. Half a bottle later and he was done.

Not a single thought was given when his son returned from his date, coming through the back instead of the front, finding him slouched in his recliner, head hanging as if his neck was made of rubber.

“Did you see your father?”
“Yea, he was sleeping.”

She shook her head and asked how his evening went, knowing full well he was passed out cold, but saying so would only incite a defensive leap of denial, so she said nothing instead.

An hour later she went out and looked on him, just to make sure he was still breathing, then returned to her room where she went to bed alone.

Not a single thought was given when he rolled out of bed the next morning, donned his biker wear and headed out for the day on two wheels. Leaving a hole in the screen where the cats could get out, a sink full of dishes she’d been looking at for a week; a courtyard taken over with vines and weeds, empty cupboards with nothing to eat.

She heard him coming down the road not long after he’d left, wondering if he realized there was much to be done and decided to stay and help instead; but he’d only run to the bank, walked in and put money on the dresser, told her he’d be back later, as he turned around and left.

Only a single thought was given when twelve hours later he returned, found her note that said she was done; went to the fridge and got himself a cold one, mumbled under his breath, “Crazy Bitch…”

©2013 jillterry |

Just a reminder . . .


©2013 jillterry │

Autumn morning ~


It’s the little things

Sometimes all you need is a soft pillow and furry belly . . .


©2013 jillterry │

Traces of heart


It took only a moment to read
Two hundred ninety-five words
But in that span of realization
It became clear she had nothing to offer

No fantastical tales of life experiences
No skill of any significant usefulness
Nothing to make anyone take real notice
Or sit alone with only their memories of her

Years of waste, pain and regret
She bears the wounds of time and things past
Once viewed as badges of honor
Fade with the years becoming just scar tissue

A mark on the world she once thought to leave
Captured in images and words as she sees
With a shift of perception she knew her own truth
Within a single mirrored heart she longed to leave it

©2013 jillterry │

Breath of Life


©2013 jillterry │

Soaring Solo

spirit guide

Morning coffee on the veranda
Sun sparkling diamonds across still water
Reflecting and questioning her needs and wants
Completely alone with only her thoughts

She thought about him across the miles
Flying solo on that rocky coast
Yoga at sunrise with no care in the world
Guided solely by his internal light

What was it that she wanted
Why had she reached for him
The question with no answer
Haunting both their minds

She stepped to the edge of the veranda
Leaned out over the rail
Raised her face to the heavens
Head-to-toe kissed by the sun

A quiet resolve washed over her being
As a voice inside whispered softly . . .

“N o t h i n g”

It was enough to knock
And have him open the door
To know he’s still out there
Put their past to final rest

Touched in his words
Transported by his voice
Offering genuine forgiveness
Having it accepted fully

Her smile radiated
From the inside out
As slowly she turned
Leaving her secret spot

That space of solitude
Where she throws it all out
Her spirit guide answering
In the form of a majestic hawk

©2013 jillterry │

%d bloggers like this: