Memories (Flash Fiction)

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Sitting in the driveway, under the old Maples, a long-forgotten song played on the car radio. It took him right back to that moment in time when he was sixteen. “Peggy Sue, Peggy Sue, with a love so rare and true…” floated from the speakers. Peggy Sue was one of those memories he had pushed back into the closet of his mind.
Under the maples, in the dark of the evening, he hesitantly gave her a kiss. It was the first for both of them. It all happened so quickly; and then she was off, back around the house.
Hormones raged, as they sat holding hands on the swing, under the naked bulb of the front porch light. Pandora’s box had been opened, never to be closed again.
Though time and circumstances changed their course. “These memories were left here with the trees.”

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Painting: Dwight L. Roth

Tonight at d’Verse we are writing Flash Fiction, which must include a line of a poem in our story. Stories are limited to only 144 words.

Join us at: https://dversepoets.com

Father’s Day

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Father’s day always brings memories of my dad, who I always referred to as Pop! He was a caring and compassionate person who showed love not only to his family, but to everyone he met. He died at the age of seventy, back before heart bypass surgery was happening. Although it has been so many years, I still miss him.

Father, Dad, or Pop…
A wonderful man to me
Agape Love shown

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Photo: Dwight L. Roth

 

 

The Age of Steam

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There is something very fascinating
about steam trains huffing and puffing
when you are seven years old.
I watch it coming up the track…
First, a white light
shining through clouds of smoke;
Then a mighty black dragon of steel
rolls through Martin crossing;
Bell clanging
Whistle blowing
Piercing the evening air.
Rhythmic clacking of wheels
shines steel rails to a mirror finish.
Cars, the color of coal dust,
are piled high with chunks of black gold…
Coke from the ovens that
fuels the blast furnaces in Pittsburgh.
I count the cars …a hundred or more…
and finally, the red caboose passes by
disappearing in the distance.
The Pennsylvania Dragon chugs on;
soon to go the way of the dinosaurs…
Lost somewhere back in time.

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Train Painting: Dwight L. Roth

Tonight is open link at d’Verse. I wrote this as a submission to Old Mountain Press for the upcoming anthology, Old Times Not Forgotten.

Join us at d’verse:  https://dversepoets.com

Memories

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Memorial Day brings back memories of all those loved ones who have passed on.  Hopefully memories are good ones that can be recalled with warm feelings. My mother loved our boys and enjoyed being a part of their life. My father died at age 70, but she live on to be 93. She enjoyed watching them grow and seeing them become parents to her great grandchildren. We look back with fond memories of those days.

Memorial Day brings

memories of lost loved ones.

Always in our hearts

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Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Remember When…

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Remember when Corvettes were small

with white-wall tires

 spinners on their wheels

and four barrel carburetors on the engines;

A time when AM was the only choice

for listening to tunes on the push button radio;

Remember when the top was down

and the homecoming queen sat on the back of the seat

waving  to everyone as it slowly rolled along

It was a time when gas was only 19.9 cents a gallon

and lead in the gas prevented engine knock;

It was a different world back then…

The year was 1958

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Poster Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Walls Closing In…

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Walls built with stones and mortar of memories
Locking tightly together each painful reality
Stacking // cementing them tightly in place
‘Till the soul is hidden without even a trace
Dungeon of doom condemning the soul
Cold place of solitude where no one can dwell
A roof on top to keep out the light
Beautiful on the outside but dark in the heart
Protected // guarded from any more pain
Windows boarded up to keep out the rain
Though years have gone by the walls still close in
Creating a chasm the soul cannot swim
A castle on the hill of life with walls strong and tall
No windows // no drawbridge // no one comes to call
A lifetime of memories too painful to tell
A soul locked in memories // a real living hell

Photo: Dwight L. Roth

First Kiss

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He was tall with brylcreemed hair
Sixteen // a new driver’s license
She was petite // a spring flower
Fourteen // hormones tingling
Her cute irresistible smile drew him.
In the shadows of the church hallway
A first kiss // never to be forgotten
…Though so long ago

Valentine’s Day is just around the corner, so today De asked us to write a Quadrille of 44 words that included a reference to a kiss. I wrote this one in memory of my first kiss!

Join us at: https://dversepoets.com

Athabasca Falls

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When our boys were young, we made a number of trips to the Canadian Rockies and the surrounding areas. One of our stops was at Athabasca Falls. It was a beautiful spot. I took a slide photo of the falls, and when I got home sent it off to get made into a poster. It hung on our upstairs landing until we moved from that house to our present home. It was rather faded but that time but held a lot of sentimental value. I decided to see if I could paint the photo. This was the beginning of my renewed interest in painting. It is now preserved for a lasting memory.

Whitewater roaring
Rocks refuse to wear away
Athabasca Falls

The little fir tree growing in the rocks survived its precarious location. Several years later we visited the falls a second time and it appeared to be about six feet tall!

Painting of Athabasca Falls: Dwight L. Roth

1000 Pieces

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We have had this puzzle hanging on the wall in our house for the past thirty-seven years.

In 1981 my mother-in-law came from Alberta, Canada to spend Christmas with us in North Carolina. While she was with us, we put this 1000 piece puzzle of canal boats together. I decided to try to preserve it by mounting it on a piece of poster board and coating it with a couple coats of clear finish.

The summer before I had to cut down a black walnut tree that was growing against the back of my garage. I borrowed a truck and took the trunk to a local saw mill where it was cut into eight twelve inch boards.  I saved all the bark edge trimming boards as well and used it to make several items. The frame for this picture was made from that tree.

Christmas together

Carefully placing pieces

Each piece a mem’ry

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Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Lillian, at d’Verse, asked us to take a look around our house and see what is hanging on the walls. Then we were to choose something and write a poem about why it was significant. This puzzle has been through two moves and is still holding together and hanging on our wall after all these years!

Join us at: https://dversepoets.com