Micah Park Biffle

    A Returning Love The aroma of tea tickles the air as I wake with the embrace of a morning sun. Stepping out of my bed tossing my sheets from their grasp. I make my way to the view from my window. The soft touch of snow had settled upon the grounds in the silent wisp of the night.   It's a spectacle to behold. A pleasure for the eye as the dim barren ground beneath it is no more. But I can't help but think of him. I can't help but remember his virile touch. How it gives me such comfort, such protection. His smile of ivory and his scent that raises me with elation.  Our time spent apart has been difficult but, he is living his dream, his sought after passion and how dare I ever be one to wish him to fray from it. All for the sake of my own need of him. We are both creatures that have clung to our dreams with great vigor.  Neither has left the side of our hearts and we are each formidable in our arenas. We shall never back down though many ni...

A Fading Mind Does she remember, oh does she remember? Does she remember my face, my voice, the mornings she cooked us breakfast before eight? Doe she remember the late night snacks and the laughter between our late day naps? Doe she remember me at all? I think not, her face is distant her, voice is subtle. Her memories are the repetition of years gone and years I was not around. I have grown, maybe that is it? Oh but no, for I can see it in her eyes, slightly nervous, confused of my presence. Who is this man she may be thinking? As I stare at her as if she is a stranger as well. An awkward separation of two that were once close. How strange a mind can lose what was once a fondness for us both. Frail her bones her posture odd. Her appetite weak and her friends, her friends I don't think know they are friends. It is an odd place for me, for us to be. No common ground but the soft sounds of Christmas in the background. She sings and I see her humor and joy have mad...

Not fair? You know what's not fair, that eight year old boy who who was diagnosed with cancer on his eighth birthday. The mom that has to watch her child slowly die as she prays he will survive; only to watch him take his last breath. After all those sleepless nights of pain staking chemo. All those days of watching their child go from a bundle of energy, to a pale boy of sickness. -- Life's not fair? You know what's no fair, going to work to find out you are being fired because someone holds a minority that you don't. Fired, because your skin complexion is not the right color and they need more of the other. Being fired, because the company needs more of a certain set of sex organs to help out "equality." -- Your life's not fair? You know what's not fair, those 200,000+ men who went to help eradicate the evils of Hitler. Only to die less than hundred feet onto the shore. All those sons taken from their families, all those father and mo...