this may enhance your reading pleasure:
THIS IS ONE OF MY MOST POPULAR PIECES AND ONE OF MY FAVORITES
I decided to re-post it and give it another chance to be viewed by some who may have missed it. It’s about my grandparents and my time spent with them down in rural S.C. 
I can remember when.
Fresh sheets hung on the line, the sunlight and breeze transformed them into curtains to another realty.
I can remember when.
The lane, dusty and narrow, like a old ribbon thrown away and left for something new, welcomed the bared feet of playing children.
I can remember when.
The hem of her skirt was my life line and I held on because my life she knew and she loved me.
I can remember when.
Dew wet grass was my threshold to a day filled with misadventure and mystery, if only in a child’s mind.
I can remember when.
He would come home and we would meet him and pillage the unsung hero’s pockets for treasure and treats. We listened for that voice that meant so much.
I can remember when.
We played in the sun and time would diminish and life was all that we could see. It was up the lane and around the house and all were decades apart. Life was play.
I can remember when.
She left us, called to the upper room, she would not stay here. Spirits as bright as hers are for the world. The anchor gone, we would scatter.
I can remember when.
Days grew short and no more misadventures, all mysteries known. Children no more.
I can remember when.
He left us, a hero fallen, dusty lane settled, treasures picked over, treats spoiled. An anchor gone and we would scatter.
I can remember when.
I left for the last time, no longer a boy, not yet a man and the world in front of me. Didn’t look back, nothing left to see.
Oatmeal, Milk 'N Honey
DEPRESSION: my muse 
Reblogged this on Innerstanding Isness.
You know, I forgot how much I love this piece. Please get your work “protected.” I can almost smell the fresh sheets on the line.
Thank you Sista. I was going over some past writing and read this and the emotions came right back. I hope those emotions are conveyed/relayed in this piece.
You know sis, I really need to get copyrighted and I will make a serious effort in that direction.
Thank you so much for your concern and for giving the writing another look.
I love the imagery. It reminds me of a time when we used to hang clothes outside on the clothesline, I can almost see it and feel the sun on my skin. I think this is one of your most memorable and beautiful pieces.
Thank you Ms. Pam,
We would always get in trouble for running through those sheets. My grandmother didn’t that and didn’t mind getting a switch, but she loved us.
I’m the piece brought back some memories for you. And thank you for stopping by.
“Fresh sheets on the line. That makes me nostalgic. It is reminescient of childhood. I don’t know who hangs their clothes on the clothes line anymore. But back then thins smelled fresh. It probably would stink with chemicals now days. Father’s coming home to the .family. Mother passing away mourning her loss.mourning the childhood of days past. very bittersweet.
I don’t know if anyone still uses the clothesline, but someone must…..right? We gotten to fancy and uppity to use should things as clotheslines now. **the uppity thing was a joke**
I often go back and read the pieces and this one ALWAYS makes me sad. Those days to me are like magic and though we didn’t have a whole lot, you would never know it. I can remember when we turned a old blanket into a superhero cape or even a house. And don’t even get me started on what a cardboard box would become. My life was rich and full and family was everywhere. You making me get all misty here.
Let me tell you a little something in short. Back a few years ago when I was very suicidal and racked with mental illness, I wanted for nothing but to be dead. I was willing to do it and had planned to do it. You know what stopped me in hindsight? The fact that I may not see my people that have already transcended this world. That’s why I can’t do it today. I believe that if we cut our lessons short by suicide, we just get turned right back around and we have to start over. After a bit of healing of course.
Thank you Ms. Mary.
Take Truth Be Told’s advice get your work protected Brother. Don’t let some theif profit from your work.Peace and Light.
I’m in the process now of doing that. I just hate sending the government more money. I already have them all protected under a creative commons licences. That doesn’t stop anyone from using it,but it does stop them from using it without giving the source.
You and Ms. Ann are correct and other that have warned me.
Ms. Ann, You better behave yourself.