I was standing in my kitchen ironing yesterday

When a wild wind blew up

It was part of a rainstorm racing along the Uncompahgre Plateau, filling the canyons with droplets of very wet liquid

The storm was rambunctious, but only on the plateau

I continued ironing, watching the storm clouds throwing spears of lightening

When suddenly the back door flew open. I turned quickly thinking I also heard a pick-up drive up

The door opened; banged and I heard “LINDA!” 

“What”, I replied.  Feeling very puzzled.

Twice more the door flew open and twice more I heard my name

Then I realized it was my Dad calling me for the voice then said: “Come here, Linda”. (Or did he say: “I am here, Linda.”?)

I went to the door and then on outside; standing on the back step my heart fluttering in my rib cage

I wasn’t afraid, just eager to see my Dad again.

Just once more.  To actually see him and hold his hand, like I was a tot again.

But, of course, he wasn’t there.  There was only the wind, the yard, and a storm dropping lush moisture on canyon rims.

From my world to your heart,

Linda