Passing

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the song ends
no one gives
a passing thanks

 

– – –

Photo: Busker, Galway, Ireland, c.b.w. 2009

Walking down the street in any European city is an adventure as you are surrounded by the past and present with dizzying delight. People rush past heading to work or tourists stop to take pictures of the architecture. In the midst of the hustle and bustle, there is music on every corner. Buskers play every instrument imaginable – their tunes and voices echoing down the streets. It’s a cacophony of melody and jingling change tossed into instrument cases. It’s chaotic and soothing … it’s beautiful.

Words: c.b.w. 2019

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Reflection

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wings flap
hidden in the trees
the water reflects

– – –

Photo: Dublin, Ireland, c.b.w. 2009.

I’ve shard this photograph previously, but the deeply reflective nature of it seems to fit my recent mood to revisit past experiences. Going to Ireland was never really on my list of places to go, but when Grandma says she wants to go, you go. We shared many beautiful memories marveling at the green hills and taking in the warmth of Irish culture, but there were also challenges as she struggled with ailing health. I’m thankful to have those glimmering moments of love, but ache at the hindsight that comes with knowing what was to come.

Words: haiku, c.b.w. 2019

Between

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shadows glide
the valley between
me and you

– – –

Photo: Ladies View, Ring of Kerry, Ireland, c.b.w. 2009

Words: senryu, c.b.w. 2018

I’ve likely posted this photograph previously, but I’m thinking of my grandmother and this is a place we enjoyed together. It seemed right to let it serve as my inspiration for today’s poem.