where are the planes

Posted on by areadingwriter

after Alice Walker and Zora Neale Hurston

Blue. Perhaps baby blue. The shade you gift a baby boy in a shower that does not involve a drop of water. But I’m talking about the July sky, here, in my corner of earth, is rarely blue. Mostly grey.

The difference was the absence of flying tins. Lesser homecomings. Lesser reunions. Lesser family portraits. Lesser planes. Well. My eyes are salted because the rain tastes of the sea now.

Or maybe, just for me.

I mean, no. I do not weep at the world – I am too busy sharpening my oyster knife.

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20.07.2021
©2021 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
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For dVerse: dVerse — Prosery — Finding Ms. Zora Neale Hurston. A 100-word story inspired by my aching for my hometown and my far family more than 3,000 miles away from me.

Published by areadingwriter

I read because I write. | I write because I read.

22 thoughts on “where are the planes”

  3. This sounds like a lament for modern times: ‘ Lesser homecomings. Lesser reunions. Lesser family portraits. Lesser planes.’ Less of everything and more time to think about it!

    Liked by 1 person

  6. “Lesser homecomings. Lesser reunions. Lesser family portraits. Lesser planes. ”
    This lament is poignant in the wake of pandemic days

    Thanks for dropping by to read mine
    Much💜love

    Liked by 1 person

  7. I can feel your ache in your words, Rosemarie. The use of sky that is blue but not associated with anything happy is powerful. The gray skies of absence. I really hope the tins will be flying again soon so you can see and hug your loved ones ❤

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