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Among the ashes and the dust,
stands an old car, riddled with rust.
Stored in a garage for over 50 years,
it's hidden beauty will soon appear.
Collectors searching far and wide
hope on hope to find such a ride.

Clench your fist,
grind your teeth.
Be respectful to others,
will avoid your defeat.
Stand your ground.
Don't get in the way
and you will show progress,
perhaps on this day.

A trail of melted wax,
down from the wick,
of a tall, flickering,
candlestick.
Warm is the wax,
pooling at the bottom
of a candlestick holder's
heavy glass base.

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A windmill to joust with
during a chaotic chase,
are the stories of Legends,
who crossed time and space.
Imaginations would soar
for this was the place,
where the Spirits before us
made their final embrace.

Why are these words
important to me?
I write for myself
and the reader to see,
the love in this life,
when I write about thee.

Wayward the wind,
leeward the sea.
I cross the broad ocean,
searching for thee.

Visiting all the islands,
the smallest of isle,
searching them all
for you to beguile.

Over the land masses,
after a great while,
hoping for a glimpse
of your bright smile.

Now here I am,
many years, gone bye,
my search for you, love
with a wandering eye.

Photo shared by Heather Cox Richardson from Letters from an American