A Story Set To Silent Music

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Montana High Country

Remembered Love ©

Ashes waft over the meadow
a jet stream of sorrow,
beckoning the widow to the
edge, down to the river.

Contented epoch, at the
creek where the wolves run,
he lived and laughed.

We watched the bright blue
stars foxtrot across the milky
way, a midnight indigo quilt
shivering with light.

Mountain men whose
High.country1toughened hands cradle their
violin and mouth harp. Music
soared amidst craggy
chiseled countenance.

We listened to the chaste
screech of a hawk, the forlorn
cry of a mountain cat,
soft snuffling of a bear,
watery splash of a fish.

Wolf Creek,Montana

You and I waltzed in the
meadow; no music needed
other than the love song that
pulsed in our hearts.

Can I have this dance for
the rest of my life?
Together it seemed so…

…happily ever after?


Time enough for us to love,
laugh, share, be silly, fight,
forgive, and cry?
To seethe and despair?


poetry, Haiku, family, love, betrayal, death, grief, recoveryby Trisha Sugarek from her book Butterflies and Bullets http://www.amazon.com/Butterflies-Bullets-Trisha-Sugarek-ebook/dp/B005CQPVF6/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1447001811&sr=8-1&keywords=butterflies%2C+sugarek
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