Courtney Putman
Articles
My Secret
Memories can be boxed away, stashed for rainy days. Hidden treasures show me your face, identical to my brother’s, but it’s me that holds your secret. A light that shines through, given to me by you. You left too soon, I guess He was in a hurry, to show me how it works, to teach me in your ways. Movies and photographs tell me your story, but even the sweetest of reminiscence can’t bring you back. There is no magic, no bottled elixir to conjure your spirit. You were gone that fateful day, left nothing but a shell and a little girl lost.
Future Possibilities
Future Possibilities Courtney Putnam Guest Writer Outside my window I hear the thunder of a train, passing in the distance.
