Deb Brandon: Living in Radiant Color

Three Little Fishies

I fought to zero in on the technician’s voice. “Her head is down. So that’s good news.”
Where did she see the head? Up or down, all I could see were shapeless blobs. She was saying something else. I tried to focus on her words. Perhaps she’d clue me into the secret language of the ultrasound.

Getting There

At low tide, the sweep of the bay was just wet sand, rippled by the retreating wavelets.
The chilly, early morning walk was your idea.
We set out straight across the bay, heading for the rocks on the point,
But by the time we made it back the tide had turned,

Setting Out

We relied too much on ‘big brother’ to take charge, forgetting how small he was.
But he really didn’t seem to mind: “cummon Deb”, he said,
And off the two of you went, up the ladder of life.

Silence

The house was quiet—no footsteps, no clacking of dishes, no water running, nothing. Perhaps it was just a lull in the usual household noise. I waited a couple of seconds, a couple more, but no, nothing. The silence muffled everything, inside and out.

Incorrigible

Sometimes I forget my limitations. Often I ignore them, on purpose. In particular, when it comes to travel, though I do make some concessions to the bloody brain—I am willing to take my chances. I knew the trip was was going to be a challenge. I took it anyway. The flight out of Pittsburgh was … Read more