Listening to Johnny Cash

Layering itself within the everyday,
grief flows between memory and
emotion through eyes, ears, heart-
Leaving me with new reasons to miss you.

Johnny Cash spinning on your
granddaughter’s turntable.
We listened to Johnny Cash
on a long drive in my car.

Your grandson wearing
one of your straw hats.
I found a picture of you
wearing said hat, smiling.

My sweet granddaughter
and her blue sky eyes.
You would have been
so excited to meet her.

Your voice in my head, fading.
How’s my little girl?

Grief flows between memory and emotion through eyes, ears, heart-
Leaving me grateful, yet
wishing you were still here.

Mom and I had a recent conversation about how we sometimes struggle to talk about the ones we miss. I get it. There’s a fear of causing tears, sadness, and increasing grief. But I’m finding that talking about my dad, remembering good times, brings peace. Yes, it may also bring tears, but tears have the power to restore. ❤️

Goals

They offer the sweetest Good Morning.
A gentle wave, almost imperceptible
when the wind is calm.

I noticed them yesterday.
I noticed them today.
They will not be here forever.

Truth is, neither will I.
Truth is, neither will you.
So, how do our Good Mornings compare?

Some mornings, the words
croak through scratchy cords
as hands rub grit from sleepy eyes.

Even on those days,
I see you smiling over
your first cup of coffee.

And I smile back-
Maybe not quite as sweet
as the Pink Bubblegum Petunias.

Their name alone makes
competing a challenge-
Though it offers a worthy goal.

Sweet Good Mornings
Conceding the temporary
Leaning into the enduring

Happy Earth Day! 🌎🌸

Rising

Do you feel it?
The growing weight

A blanket sewn of fear
and hate cast over
everyone in its path

Another layer added
with each news story,
unsolicited opinion,
misguided answer

Like being wrapped in
a down comforter on
the hottest day of summer

And I am suffocating

But no amount of worry
will ease the weight
Or change this season

Do we burrow deeper?
Do we kick off the cover?

What if I reach for your hand,
and you reach for mine-
Then together, together

Like brilliant sun rays
piercing storm clouds
We poke pin holes
in the fabric

Each aperture releasing
a breath, a smile, a memory-
Droplets of hope
Rising in solidarity

Simply Sunday

Thankful

Newly opened buds
drinking gentle
morning rain

Pines across the
way, soaking in
the afternoon sun

Downy woodpecker
perched on newly
found suet feeder

My heart seeing
Your sweet smile
through the window

My doubts fading
as other hearts
intently listen


I know the world feels heavy, but today I am choosing reasons to be thankful. Though they may seem simple, acknowledging them brings a little peace. 🩷🕊️

Catching Light

A constellation of water droplets
clings tightly to my window

Tiny spheres sparkling bright
as the brightest stars
shining in the darkest dark

So close, separated only
by a single pane of glass
not millions of light-years

My hands can touch neither
the droplets nor the stars-
Yet, each embraces me

Heart, mind, and soul-
Assuredly the most
endearing enfolding

Like the quiet twinkle
in your eyes, a welcome
endless embrace

Simply Sunday

Photo by Paul Porter

Dynamic Duo

A perfectly posed pair
Painted in ombre shades
of tan, brown, and white

Their rounded beaks
poised, ready to speak
in sweet solidarity

Their audience of
captivated cattails,
ready to listen

Something tells me
It won’t be a long speech
A lesson in commitment
and contentment, perhaps

Thankful for each other
and their current view

Simply Sunday

If I were a kite
I’d lean against
My favorite oak tree
Enjoying the shade
and the company

Waiting for a breeze
to lift me high
So I could fly
above the trees
Arms flung open wide

Gliding and giggling
Taking in the beauty
below, offering patches
of shade for the tree
before floating over to you

You, standing straight
and tall in the middle
of a flowery meadow,
holding steady to the handle

If I were a kite
You’d be my lifeline

Simply Sunday

Reaching For Me

I saw a hand
in the sky today
Powerful and strong
Open and inviting

Formed from clouds
while holding clouds
Its blue-gray edges
Lined in bright sunlight

I imagine sitting
safe in its palm
Reclining, at least
for a moment

No worries of
Hatred or war
Sickness or death-
Not ignoring

Only briefly resting
Cradled in the hand
I cannot fully understand
Believing it is there, reaching

Simply Sunday

A poem and a few songs for you, dear friends. Much love-Kelley ❤️

Ghosts-A poem written and read by Kelley Morris
Song for You by James Taylor
Kelley Morris, piano
Your Song by Elton John,
Kelley Morris, piano
Here Comes the Sun by The Beatles
Kelley Morris, piano
Fields of Gold by Sting
Kelley Morris, piano