"My maternal Grandfather passed away long before I was born, leaving behind shelves of books of poetry. Reading words he loved, especially those he had underlined with red pencil, allowed me to hear his voice ~ and find my own."
E. M. Katherine DeLorey
The Sigh
Quiet spaces speak between the clock ticks where my heart breathes in and out the question of the hour shared in whispers made inaudible by eyelashes that blink too loudly breaking the connection just long enough for the truth to slip away between the clock ticks and escape once again inhalation by my soul.
