My sister and I are hitting the road this morning to make a quick road trip to Kelowna, home town of our childhood, to see our aunt, and cousins. Our uncle passed away last evening, and we are going to be there with the family at this sad time. This is the last of my mother's siblings left alive; it is the end of an era. We so admired this glamorous group of relatives, back in their glory days. They seemed impossibly beautiful and sophisticated to our gaggle of gawky kids. A golden time that shines in memory, more brightly the older we get.
As I will be without computer access until Monday night, I include two Crone Crunchies, to cover Day 25 and Day 26 of the poem a day for April. I hope to write a poem while I am away, to post Monday night.
He talked in riddles
that could only be deciphered
with the key of love.
Village Wedding Feast by Bruegel
The woman in the dream looked like
a painting by Bruegel: rotund, a long dress,
a white, full-bibbed apron,
plain flushed face, thick arms.
She spoke truth when she said,
"There is the potential for joy.
You just have to follow
the right dream."
Days 25 and 26, kids. I will be back Monday night and will catch up with you all then. Take care, my friends.