Lifted
©2014 Susan Noyes Anderson
image by Portia Lee
On a quiet summer morning,
after night’s unbroken rest,
I look past the tree-framed window
and discover I am blessed.
On a quiet summer morning,
after night’s unbroken rest,
I look past the tree-framed window
and discover I am blessed.
Declaration of Independence.
Pilgrims’ feet, well-planted.
Heritage and brave forefathers:
all taken for granted.
My life is hard; she likes to say.
In fact, she says it every day.
Reliably and without fail,
Poor me has been her holy grail.
Collecting is a testament
to life already lived –
a witness of the future
still in store.
My friend and I go all around;
together we are always found.
Sometimes we run and shout and play;
sometimes we sit upon the ground.
We reverenced the flag when I was a young girl…
proud and strong we stood, hand over heart.
Deep emotions were raised as we saw it unfurl;
our allegiance was pledged from the start.
Photo by Filip Mroz on Unsplash
She sails across an open sea
obscured in fog and memory–
a ship of ghosts, of days gone by,
her battered flag lost to the sky.
The road of life is rough and steep
with little ease along the way.
Some rivers cut and plunge so deep
they throw us back to yesterday.