Diluted words from a pre-dawn flow.....
I barely recognized him.....his frail skeletal body hunched over a long polished table working on something I couldn't make out. In my mind, I could visualize the man he used to be. Strong, beautiful, nearly perfect in my eyes. Nearly perfect in his own. I found it painful to watch, but could not tear my eyes away. His crippled hand painstakingly maneuvering the pen in small, meticulous increments, his oversized glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose.
Stripped of the external beauty of his youth, he now bathed in the light of his hard earned wisdom. Stripped of vanity, he'd learned to face the flaws of his own humanity, so finally his internal beauty could shine through.
Stop it. Stop it right now. Your writing is leaving me with shivers every day. I can absolutely picture this man, someone special to you, who could be any man we know and love. Such effective imagery and flow. All of your writing is so poetic. I'll stop now. But seriously.
ReplyDeleteThis is so powerful...hauntingly beautiful, Dar. God, I love, "skeletal body,"... "crippled hand,".. the, "oversized glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose," What a picture you paint, and what a paradox you suggest. Straight to the core. Love.
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