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Sanctuary in Morning Glory

Lonely little alcove
second story up
at the edge of town
train whistle blasts
my memories loud
the purple morning glory
was summer’s redemption
Hodge-podge neighbors,
mixed tape we were
tuned on different tangents
this place, you know…
oven bottom ajar, off track
refrigerator too loud
the plumbing is…
an empty field is the backyard
racoons regulary visit
the penthouse view from
one big window, flimsy at best,
held strong against a violent north wind
in a bad storm, late at night
patio, five feet wide,
secluded by that engaging morning glory,
purple majesty
The old man next door
is a shut-in,
his cough echoes
ready to leave,
leave I must
This place has held me awhile,
warmth in winter’s rage,
cool in summer’s expanse
I have no claim on it
sad to say goodbye
to the part of me
that will stay bent and whispering
to purple flowers on the vine.
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Published inLifestylepoetryPoetry

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      • I know what you mean. I’ve had to move a lot actually but after the move from NY, I’ve always been local to LA so there was nothing that I couldn’t go back and visit, flowers included.

        • L.A. sounds like such a neat place to live. Actually my one guilty reality show to admit to watching is the Beverly Hills Housewives just because I love the L.A. scene and their little slice of real estate there, lol.

          • I’ve actually never seen it but I probably don’t have to, ha, ha! L.A. is okay but there is a lot of superficiality and a lot of driving! I miss NY and the mentality there.

  1. I really enjoyed this nostalgic writing piece, poetry and photograph included, Lana. I have left pieces of my favorite visuals kept in my mind to take out and treasure. I like the way you include such depth in your poems.

    • Robin, I think we leave bits and pieces of ourselves where we have been. It’s good to remember the precious moments at these places. Thanks as always for your gracious comments.

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