a world she sowed

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She held a world,
Soaked into the edges of the leaky rowboat that her father owned,
Pressed into her Grandmother’s pies,
Scattered across empty highways during road trips,
Cried into the disappointments of lost opportunity,
Spilled with popcorn on movie theater floors,
Written across her ink-coated hands,
Worn through her elementary-school tennis shows,
Thrown across her Brother’s baseball fields,
Walked up the streets of Manhattan,
Stained with the coffee stains of the morning,
Spoke in the rare moments of complete silence,
Danced across the floor a many a times,
Lost on long bus rides,
Splashed into the lake on summer afternoons,
and ran up and down the floors of every place she called home.

The the world she sowed was a story that shined every moment as strong and fresh as she could remember. Her world was only known to her, but her heart left bits of it everywhere. For she scattered them them far, but sure as the tide returns–so did the feelings and memories.  All those bits, collected, would finish the puzzle of her world.

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