Peggy Heinrich

just knowing
the velvet feel of pansies
without touching
old photos:
my father’s face
younger than mine
a child on the beach
spooning sand in a bucket . . .
today the sea is still
humid afternoon
across the wooden floor
our shadows merge
August twilight
removing their shoes
to cross the stream
end of summer
the shape of his feet
in his empty sneakers
fresh sea breeze
the mimosa he planted
tall enough to wave
frozen puddle
faces on an old front page
stare through ice
evening news
the soothing weight
of the quilt
January sunset
putting aside her journal
to peel an orange

All poems copyright by Peggy Heinrich. They may not be used for any purpose without explicit permission.

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