©2021 Susan Noyes Anderson

I’m well aware that you’re not here,
a little too aware, I fear;
and yet, neither are you quite gone,
despite the truth that you’ve passed on.

©2021 Susan Noyes Anderson

They didn’t dig you up, only my feelings,
stilled ones that slept with you under the ground.
Deep wounds that went unnoticed by their absence,
well-buried until anguish lost was found.

©2021 Susan Noyes Anderson

Art by John Lautermilch

Soon or late, each soul must learn
how quickly the whole world can turn
upon its axis, in a flash,
as long-held dreams rain down in ash.

©2021 Susan Noyes Anderson (text only)

We do not see thee;
we are blind, and yet
we feel thy hand.

©2021 Susan Noyes Anderson

art by Kim Berggren

Always hold your people close.
Don’t let them stray too far.
Bear them within, as a reminder
who you really are.

©2021 Susan Noyes Anderson

Time heals all wounds, so they say,
but do these words hold true?
If yes, such healing plays me false, son,
when it comes to you.

©2021 Susan Noyes Anderson

Rain just gotta fall some time.
Fierce rain just gotta fall.

©2010 Susan Noyes Anderson

Sailing this sleek, silver ship
across an ocean of mustard, scrub oak
and California wildflowers;
I can almost feel the wind in my face,
the sea spray on my cheeks,
the ballast in my sails.