Long Grove Days




I close my eyes and my feet take me over the covered bridge and down the middle of town, among rustling leaves, past the perennial pumpkin patch photo spots and cider mill, where I smell spices mulling and their famous apple treats, baking. The air is crisp; wearing a sweater, along with having the sun on my face, is enough to stave off the cold. Children at play are everywhere. I hear their excited voices as they anticipate the candy they’ll consume after trick-or-treating has finished and darkness falls on this idyllic street. I open my eyes and see palm trees and flowering bushes, yet the time spent with friends in Long Grove is burned into my memory.

miles may separate
people from friends and places,
not their memories

P. Wanken

(love & miss you JLG!)

Shared at Phoenix Rising



    1. Mosk…what a great comment. Thank you. My writing has definitely evolved in the 5 years since I wrote my first poem. Thanks for the encouragement! ❤


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