Lori Olivier's Blog (5)

A kid in the back of an old Chevy truck

Stares out in wonder to a world he calls "Up"

Over the hills and down winding, steep roads

His imagination takes flight and away it goes



Behind sea green eyes blaze a trail of places

With old, ragged cowboys and rodeo clown faces

In towns with odd names that never found it to maps

Where adventure beckons on past the brims of old hats



A kite and a key on a dark, dark, dark night

A first apprentice to… Continue

Through darkened streets on lamp lit paths

My pulse begins to race

Seven years I've wearily wandered this path

And have yet to see one single face



Not one pair of eyes, nor hair, nor smiles

What they wear I haven't a clue

But I unmistakably recognize character

As I pass by people's shoes



The untied shoes of youngsters

That skip past me without care

To the boots of a construction worker

Working diligently for his fair… Continue

Dear Lori of the 1995 variety-



Greetings from 2016. I'm you. A different version of you, but you nonetheless. As always and often, letters start out kind of awkward. You will be happy to know that part has not changed. We are still as awkward as ever. You know what? That's okay. Let me tell you about a few more things that I have learned along this crazy thing called life.



1). You are still listening to much of the same music now that you did then. Seriously, music hasn't… Continue

*It's just a rough draft I'm working on so it might be, well, rough. :)*





Just before sunset on a long forgotten gravel road, I caught a twinkle

of something out of the corner of my eye.



I squinted in the direction of the sinking sun and beheld the outline

of a mighty tree on a high hill.



In all of my years walking down this lonely country road, I could

not remember ever seeing this tree before.



As my gaze rested on the distant… Continue

I stored my dreams in paper castles

They lay like rags upon the floors

Some stacked neatly in the corners

Others hiding silently behind the doors



I stored them there many years ago

Thinking I'd revisit them soon enough

But years and years have whisked slowly by

And those dreams now hide beneath dusty stuff



Beneath "realistic" goals and "attainable" work

Beneath "maybe, should of, could of"

Beneath disguises and masks and "tried too… Continue