The Memory of Conversations
Six chairs in two rows
facing each other across a braided blue rug.
Morning light comes through the window.
The room is heartbreakingly simple,
no clutter to be found, six chairs
and the memory of conversations.
About this poem
The picture was taken at the Hancock Shaker Villiage.
The woman I love and I took off for an overnight this weekend. No pressures. No responsibilities. No timetable. Lots of conversation and time together.
Conversation is precious. Sometimes I feel like we have traded it in for memes and snark, but a real conversation is a gift to treasure. May you have many.