..I recall that day on the beach - the sand so brilliant, the clouds so massive, and the wind punishing your hair..
.. Strands of your hair and tendrils of the wind spin into nothingness the memories of that day..
.. Before you, life was desolate - the past hardly worth remembering - and now, each moment a keepsake I can't throw away..
.. We went to watch the waves that bitter day and the wind took your red cap and mittens - blew them into the sea..
.. Thinking about laughing with 2 yr old Findlay today - Dostoyevsky was right, The soul is healed by being with children...
.. Spiritual or emotional pain doesn't become a memory so much as a bruise..
.. The answer is not in the damn blank page - it's in the days or years before and you have to dredge it up - exhume the past again..
.. Everything is gone except traces of you inside me - and the years like the wind are sweeping those away..
.. Everyone wants to be excited by something magical and wondrous - to be reminded of how they once saw the world..
.. We live in the same city but don't see the same things - you see buildings and I see memories..
.. Every time I look at you autumn leaves come in between - does it matter they're the color of your hair - or they still fall in my memory?..
.. When I was a kid, Toronto streets were deserted and quiet on Sundays, except for the sound of church bells I stood on the sidewalk one December listening to the Christmas bells - I've never forgotten that moment..