Comments about Giselle Braeuel
Sparks In The Night
I am not young anymore, my body tells me so.
As the sun comes up it pinches me in many places.
And at the end of the day, as I wait for sleep,
fingers of the night prod into my brain.
My thoughts are like smoldering embers,
their sparks sending me on a journey.
Memories of people, like assorted masks,
parade in front of me.
The more they belong to the past,
the less hazy they are,
that's what age does to you.
I see them vividly, my gentle, loving mother,
my stern but caring dad,
my blond, little brother, my headstrong sister.
A family ...