
Note: I braved Brenda’s Sunday Whirl . It is a challenge, for sure — her 12 words this week are: souvenirs, free, touch, know, cracks, siren, window, waves, sting, show, ring and give. I have based this poem on memories from my summers in Sweden, where I am at the moment. The photo (taken today) is of a field surrounding my grandmother’s old house.
The Year I Knew
I slipped my grandmother’s ring onto my thumb, and
the creek gave me a silver ripple
in exchange. Touch, it whispered,
and I did—moss, bark, stone—each a story.
Through the window of leaves,
I watched a spider spell geometry
on the air. Nothing was free,
and yet everything gave.
Waves in a puddle echoed
the cracks in my palm.
A tree touched my shoulder
and I knew it knew.
I wasn’t lost. I was found—
a siren stitched into a siren song
of roots, sky, sting and shadow.
The world didn’t show itself;
it let me in.
Images are copyright and not to used without permission, which I willingly give when asked, and when not for commercial use. Imagery and poems/prose ©Misky 2006-2025.
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