In the vintage ring I found, I seek an echo of my life When I first saw the ring at the vintage sale, it was buried in a pile of gold trinkets. The garnet stone was so hidden, no light could catch it. “What do you think about this one?” I asked my sister.
Then I see the large white envelope, and I’m transported to a winter day some 15 years ago It’s time to tackle the storage closet. There’s a layer of dust on the uppermost shelves; it’s been collecting there for two years now. I keep procrastinating. I know I’ll need to discard half the
“Mommy,” she whispered, “do you remember you sang me this song after my operation?”
It was a beautiful wedding, it really was. So what’s this pit in my stomach? Why are my eyes blurring?
You are there when I’m asked how many children I have, and I hesitate before I answer
The furniture was old, not old enough for vintage charm, just old, but it meant summer to us
