Thursday, November 16, 2023


Poem of the Day, Thursday, November 16, 2023


On cold evenings, cool air seeps
through the front door
painted bright red.
Even old blankets beneath the doors
only stop it for a moment.

Inside though, the fire roars
in the fireplace with its great mantle,
buoying up all the trimmings of family—
photos of children, grandchildren, fishing trips,
the Tetons, special rocks, and graduations.

We sit there, quietly, just the two of us now,
melancholy seeping through our veins,
remembering the good times,
while we sip hot chocolate
with extra scoops of Marshmallows.

We look fondly at each other,
devotion infused in each other’s hearts,
seeing and feeling the endearing past
and the immense love in the moment.

These are our times now, together
before the fire, mesmerized
by the flames and popping of wood,
and smoke rising lazily, hesitantly,
knowing that it will dissipate
into the cold air and disappear forever.

Our memories do not disappear.
They settle on the surface and descend
deep within our hearts and minds,
conjuring up another time,
another place, always lingering,
never leaving us, even for a moment.

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