Blooming Heather Drinking Up the Rain

I never saw a moor,
I never saw the sea;
Yet know I how the heather looks,
And what a wave must be.

I never spoke with God,
Nor visited in heaven;
Yet certain am I of the spot
As if the chart were given.
~ Emily Dickinson


Today it rained

I thought of home
Of pictures
made with crayon

Of a house
with two windows
and one closed door

Of stick figures
one of a mommy
who is gone
one of a daddy
who never was

One of me
with a smile on my face
A dog and a cat
that were
merely a wish

Returning from the post box
on a this now foggy afternoon

I stopped to look at the blooms
on the heather growing
in my very unkempt borders

I forgot about homes,
families that never were
and thought about fragile
blooms on hardy heather
with a smile on my face.
~me