Remnants

Leaves scraped,
eddied at our feet
and flung themselves
into the wind.
Our few words
went with them.
It was a cold day.
You hugged your arms
and lifted two fingers in farewell.
Never, I thought, would I forget
that last look.
But what I remember,
every Novenber,
are the bobbing heads
of dried flowers
that lined the path.

Bridget Harwell

Grammar Lesson

Before I learned
to live in the Now,
I roamed at will
through tangled fields
of long ago
and far away
and sometime soon.

Until,
a funny thing happened:
the past grew large
the future small
and roaming
isn't safe at all.
My, my,
hot stoves and pot holes.
Now,
Now is everything.

Bridget Harwell