Wednesday, 19 September 2012


Taking a peek at the beautiful photos of you, hugging rock, sitting by water, smiling with friends - especially smiling, I remember just what you smell like; how it feels to hold you and bury myself in the rough fabric of your jumper, to have your hair between my fingers and rest my weight on the expanse of your broad chest.

this is one of those little moments when the past that I knew flashes brightly in the present, blotting out reality and now.

At twenty-three I thought I was going to be a permanent fixture. The future was going to be bare-feet, strong, mud-splattered proud and happy, standing in the rose garden you prune for me.


and so many things turned out different from how I imagined.

Be well and happy, my friend. Still you are part of me, and nothing more than to see you smile brings me greater joy.


Angela H said...

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

you are the root from which I draw strength.

Angela H said...

the width of your shoulders was the limit of my world.