Tracey Unwin

Tracey Unwin

keep our journey
connected to history
Without signs we get lost
disoriented by the darkness
swallowed-up in swirling time
blinded at the intersections
in crossroads that lead us
on in numb circuitry
or point instead
toward home

      You are my beloved Child!
      My favor rests upon you!

the heart knows
its own Belovedness
Remembers an ancient way
that lies under the paved crack
behind each foreboding shadow
Here the heart stops mid-stride
lifts its face into the soft rain
to be washed clean
be called again
toward home


About Peter Notehelfer

I'm a retired people person who now finds the time to watch the little details of the world without worrying about being watched by anyone . . . I live on an Island north of Seattle with my wife named Ellen, a yellow dog named McGee, a yellow cat named Gatzby, and four fine chickens . . . I read fiction, bake bread, smoke salmon, and fish whenever the weather allows . . . Oh, and yes, I try to write a poem every day simply to avoid senility!
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2 Responses to Land`Marks

  1. I often feel lost in time – and the landmarks have eroded


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