Back and Forth

Hammered gold mountains

Against a lilac sky.

A lone hawk looks on

From his perch on the

Twisted tree branch.

My rocking chair moves

Back and forth

Carrying my thoughts

Through rivulets of time…

Cinnamon toast in Texas.

Orange ferals in California,

The red Ford Fairlane in Utah.

Lavender dresses with

Scratchy petticoats.

Time-worn hands holding

A newspaper from 1957.

Back and forth, back and forth.

The hammered gold mountains glow

As my rocker sways with

My tumbling memories.

Back and forth…

I try to connect all the

Unconnectable dots.

Moments in time swirl

And evaporate,

Rearrange themselves in

This new moment.

The lone hawk flies away,

The mountains glow.

I want to hold on to

This quiet moment

Before it slips away like all the other moments,

Because there is nothing to anchor it.

Because it’s new.

Back and forth…

But yesterday, last year,

Last decade, last century

Were new once, too.

Why the need for an anchor now?

Back and forth…

To be “as a little child”

Requires only to – be.

To exist in the beauty of each moment.

Perhaps the memories were

Created when my mind was fully

Present in a capsule of time and space.

Present in my grandmother’s kitchen

In an early East Texas morning.

Present for riding to school in

Daddy’s shiny new car.

Present for my aunt’s wedding

And for the beloved orange cats

Greeting me on the porch.

And present as I rock here,

Back and forth

Looking at hammered gold

Mountains against a lilac sky.