Musings
Unedited versions of Happy Little Trees
Hearing herself the way people heard her,
she felt crystal clear, silky smooth,
like warm honey.
The spotlight was spectacular.
Pausing for a beat, she heard something in the distance:
Ping Blee
Tong
She shuddered. They all sounded so… harsh. So sharp. So… clashy.
I’ll tell you how Puglet didn’t lose her eye.
She didn’t lose in a sword fight.
A snake didn’t mistake it for an egg.
She didn’t suddenly get really into pirates.
Puglet just came like that.
And it didn’t make any difference how many eyes she had, because Puglet was just right... but I didn't always know it.
Bright lights
Warm sights
Lighting up the Christmas nights.
I stare out through the drippy glass
At all the pretty lights we pass.
“Mommy, it’s time to put up our Christmas lights!”
“Honey, we don’t put up Christmas lights.”
“Why not?”
“‘Cause we’re Jewish.”
​
Whoosh... Whoosh... Whoosh...
“I don’t want to be Jewish.”
Dreamy gleamy glowing hills
Rolling roiling boiling thrills
As the dusky dark advances
Embers leave us second chances
​
​
Manhasset Bay, Port Washington, NY
You remember that step you took together that was further than any step you’d ever taken in the past, but you weren’t scared–nope, not one bit–because you were hand-in-hand.
You remember that place you went where wide-eyed wonder lifted both of you up, and you soared high over the treetops.
You remember just sitting, quietly, peacefully, doing nothing at all, but that nothing was filled with warm breezes and butterflies. And it was something, because you were together.
And as you open yourself to the memories, you realize that your friend is gone, but also not gone.
Because yes, your friend is not here… but the memories are.
Always.
A sparkle glimmered in her eye
"I'll never know if I don't try..."
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