Quiet Rivers

Monthly Archive for April, 2008

• One Thought at a Time

  • From One Window, At Dusk
  • I’m Just Saying
  • Needing A Massage
  • Shadow of a Woman
  • Oasis
  • Trinity
  • As If Those Years Never Went Away
  • It’s All About Time in America
  • Sleepless
  • Isn’t Friendship Like That Too?
  • Multiplication
  • Twilight Conversations
  • Warm
  • One Exhale

• Categories

  Select Category Asides Credo Delving In, Reaching Out Journal Letters Music Out of the Box Points for Reflection Recipes Transpositions Uncategorized Verse

• Archives

  Select Month November 2008 October 2008 September 2008 August 2008 June 2008 May 2008 April 2008 March 2008 February 2008 January 2008 November 2007 July 2007 June 2007 May 2007 April 2007 February 2007 November 2006 October 2006 September 2006 August 2006 July 2006 June 2006 April 2006 December 2005 November 2005 October 2005 September 2005 May 2005 April 2005 March 2005 February 2005 December 2004 November 2004 October 2004 September 2004 August 2004 June 2004 May 2004 April 2004 February 2004 January 2004 December 2003 October 2003 September 2003 August 2003 July 2003 June 2003 May 2003 April 2003 March 2003

• • Elsewhere

    • A Deja Brew
    • Artistic Apex
    • Bisaya Bloggers
    • Extraplanar
    • Ines Hardtke
    • Miamor
    • Norman Nimer
    • Pebbles to Pillars
    • Pinoycentric
    • Random Rambling
    • Short Poetry
    • Soul
    • Undiscovered
    • Unguarded Utterance

• Tags

  butterflies in twilight contemplation critique distance essays friendships insights from others Journal Letters light like wine lost time love moon-kissed Music nearness past pathos reflections regret serenity star-crossed Verse without you with you

• FriendSpeak

  • Jet on I’m Just Saying
  • Jet on Needing A Massage
  • Jet on Chain 2: Maybe Another Penny
  • Jet on Watershed
  • summerivers on Shadow of a Woman

• 

• 
  

• Keys

  • Log in
  • Entries RSS
  • Comments RSS
  • WordPress.org

• this is how it goes. a father, a son, trying to bridge the years, actual and implied, and only succeeding from love, and both never saying it out loud enough for the other to hear. this is how it went, a knowing that found no speech, until it was too late.

  this is how it is. he was, therefore i am.

  maybe, just maybe, wherever he is, he knows.

  this one's for LARRY.