loss – Colleen Keller Breuning

Whistle of the Train

Whistle of the Train

I can hear your voice calling me,
a gentle breeze across the sea,
in the mourning dove’s sad refrain,
with every whistle of the train.

As tracks of hot tears stain my face,
my heart longs for your warm embrace,
a balm that soothes this endless pain
with every whistle of the train.

The candlewick is burning low,
twenty years gone, I miss you so.
My love for you will never wane
with every whistle of the train.

I can hear your voice calling me
with every whistle of the train.

Colleen Keller Breuning © 2023
February 25, 2023

To Dad… I know you are watching over me. I miss you and love you so much!

Mood: Missing You
Inspiration: “Dear Father” by Neil Diamond

Happy Saturday, everyone! I started this poem on the 20^th anniversary of my father’s death, which was February 17, 2023. But for some reason, I needed some time and space to finish it, so I put it aside. I have been so busy at work, and I was aware this day was coming soon. But when I looked at the calendar that morning it hit me like an anvil to my heart. I started to weep, tears of sorrow falling for the man who gave me life. I couldn’t seem to shake it, so I let the emotions out.

Dad was our rock, a gentle giant, a silent man. However, when he had something to say – you listened! I feel like he was my protector, as most of siblings undoubtedly feel, too. He realized that I was young, stupid and was going to learn things by my mistakes in life. Yet he stood by me and loved me throughout these challenges. Both he and Mom have been there for me through many difficult times, my darkest days. I am ever grateful to both of them for giving me the best possible childhood, even though we struggled financially at times. I have the happiest memories to carry me through life.

Trains have a significant meaning in my life since my Dad worked at the railroad yards. Growing up, he would take me to some of these locations, let me explore the parked caboose and roam around the yards. I would clean up the office space, even cooked a baked bean dinner on a small gas heater one time at Cumbo, a remote rail yard in West Virginia! That probably would be considered taboo in this day and age, but I loved it. Every time I hear a train whistle, I think of him. I don’t hear them often where I live now or when we lived in Florida. But at my Winchester office, I hear the nearby train whistle several times each day, and it is such a comfort to me. I feel as if it’s my Dad telling me he is just fine.

Naturally, we all wish we could have had more time with him. He died way too young, only 68 years old. It was small cell lung cancer, as he was a life-long smoker. It was absolutely heart-wrenching to see how that disease consumed him. It really hit me thinking how Dan and I are inching ever closer to that age, and facing our own mortality is frightening. I guess we need to try to make the most of every day we have on this Earth! I think that is a message we should all take to heart.

The video I am posting from Neil Diamond is a song Dad loved and played often. It has a special place in my heart and evokes memories each time I hear it. Have a good weekend!

XOXO Colleen

Ecrits Blogophilia Week 34.14 Topic: Freedom of Choice
Hard Bonus: Write a Kyrielle Sonnet (my writer’s choice)
Easy Bonus: Include a train whistle (my writer’s choice)

Lines in the Sand

Lines in the Sand

The wind blew cold
The moon grew old
And just where did our time go?
In void of gray
You slipped away
Where all cloaked emotions flow…

Inhale the breeze
Of churning seas
As hope scatters across land.
I stand alone
Hand clasping stone
And I draw lines in the sand…

I drew you lines in the sand,
Lines in the sand…

Colleen Keller Breuning © 2022
July 4, 2022

I’ve been on a real Radiohead kick the past few years, and I was excited that both of my sisters are Radiohead fans as well! This is one group I have yet to see in concert, but I’m keeping my eye out for their next tour. 😉

I think Thom Yorke is one of the most brilliant lyricists and singers. His voice is ethereal, haunting, and sends chills down my spine. I particularly love this song, “Sail to the Moon,” which Thom wrote for his son. It makes me think of my beloved Tommy, especially during Tommy’s battle with lymphoma, which fatefully claimed him. I would sing the lyrics to this song to Tommy, and pray he was going to be okay.

Somehow as I was listening to this song, it inspired this poem. I don’t know why but it just came to me, starting with the phrase “lines in the sand” and it just sort of morphed into this. I love when that happens! Thank you, Thom Yorke, for your constant inspiration!

xoxo Colleen

No Closure

No Closure

Your strangled voice echoed down the stairwell;
Horrific words, a dagger to the heart.
Like a heavy anvil, the sorrow fell…
A bone crushing weight that tears one apart.

Emotions scatter like leaves on the breeze;
A free spirit, you reveled in your youth.
Your beautiful soul riddled with disease…
We struggle to accept this painful truth.

No closure, not even one last goodbye;
Left behind, we fall to our knees and pray.
We trudge ahead as blinding tears slip by…
Down into the black void of yesterday.

Your spirit is released, forever free…
As we grieve and cherish your memory.

For my brother-in-law Bob … with love.

Colleen Keller Breuning © 2022
May 1, 2022

I have had writer’s block for an entire month, after learning of the death of my dear brother-in-law Bob on April 2. It has been a very difficult and painful month of introspection, prayers, and struggling to accept the reality of his sudden death. I will not speak to that, as it is far too difficult. It was even hard for me to post this over one month later….

Bob was Dan’s youngest brother, two years younger than me. He was brilliant, literally larger than life, a free spirit and was a bit of a rebel. He had zest and passion for life — loved nature, trees, animals, believed in Bigfoot, aliens. Bob was an amazing storyteller; he had a wonderful sense of humor and was so wonderful with children! He was very dear to both of my kids, and we all have such fond family memories of him in Michigan, Captiva Island, and Lake Tahoe. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so hard in my life, than the times we spent with Bob. There were always pranks, laughter and a sense of light-heartedness when you were with him.

We had hoped to make it out to visit him at the home he built in Burnt Ranch, California. He was a living legend, very loved and well-respected in his community there. Our hearts are broken, we will miss him more than words can say, and we will always treasure the memories of him. Our love and sympathy go out to Bob’s wife Arlene, daughter Jessica and the entire family during this most difficult time.

xoxo Colleen

The Mourning Light

The Mourning Light

no sign of the sun
the morning is full of storm
framed by steel gray clouds

the heavens melt down
weeping angels fill the sky
shedding bitter tears

the mud and the roots
drown in relentless sorrow
shallow and hollow

restless winds of March
ruffle the raven’s feathers
ashes to stardust

sepia snapshots
the essence of life wavers
in the mourning light

Colleen Keller Breuning © 2021
March 5, 2021

Ecrits Blogophilia Week 52.13 Topic: Melt Down
Hard Bonus (2 points): Incorporate a line from a Pablo Neruda poem (The morning is full of storm; the mud and the roots)
Easy Bonus (1 Point): Include a character from Dr. Who (Weeping Angels)

Secret Phrase Guesses:

Mad Scientist
Kitchen Chemistry
Weird Science
Science Experiment
Back to the Future
High School Chemistry
Test Tubes
Wild Hypothesis
Love Potion #9
Crazy in Love

Topic: Christine Picture: Christopher

Bells on Christmas Eve

Bells on Christmas Eve

Jupiter aligned with Saturn
and winter took a bitter turn.
Our flashlights scanned the galaxy
as the hoot owl whispered softly.

Do you remember hearing bells
jingling as Christmas Eve snow fell?
By my window cold and icy,
as the hoot owl whispered softly.

Where did you go? Why did you leave?
Bells break the silence as I grieve.
My shattered dreams a memory
as the hoot owl whispered softly.

Jupiter aligned with Saturn
as the hoot owl whispered softly.

Colleen Keller Breuning © 2020
December 24, 2020

For my Mom and Dad…. memories surround me this Christmas as we prepare for a very different and lonely holiday season without being able to be with family due to COVID. I am missing my family intensely this holiday season, particularly sad we cannot visit with Mom this Christmas. This poem contains elements and references to both of them; the repeating line was triggered by hearing a hoot owl several nights ago outside my window, the first time in our 8 years living here. My Mom loves owls, and she is a constant in our lives. ❤

Today I will be chopping walnuts, just like Dad did every Christmas Eve for his delicious walnut cake. I will never forget the excitement that both Dad and Mom brought all of us kids during the Christmas season. There are so many cherished memories – writing this took me back to the time as a child when I woke up on Christmas Eve, so excited that I heard jingle bells and tried to look out the icy window to see if Santa was on our roof! Even though we didn’t have a lot of material things growing up – we had a lot of love and that’s all that matters. I wish each of you a peaceful Christmas with lots of love and blessings. xoxo

Ecrits Blogophilia Week 42.13 Topic: The Meaning of Dreams
Hard Bonus (2 points): Mention a Childhood Memory (hearing bells jingling on Christmas Eve)
Easy Bonus (1 Point): Include Something Battery Operated (flashlights)

SECRET BONUS GUESSES:

1.  White fox
2.  The snow fox
3.  North Pole
4.  White out conditions
5.  The fox and the hound
6.  Foxy loxy
7.  Sly like a fox
8.  Fox is my spirit animal
9.  Snowblind
10.  Walking in a winter wonderland

Topic: Craig Picture: Lika

Dreams of the Rainbow Bridge

Dreams of the Rainbow Bridge

Somewhere far over the rainbow,
beyond the mountains and seas,
there is a place of peace and beauty
where the cats and dogs run free.

My dreams have been invaded,
colored by memories so sweet.
I saw you running in the distance;
my heart skipped several beats.

I tried to shout, mouth frozen,
no sound escaping my lungs.
It’s impossible to think or speak
when the cat’s got your tongue.

Somehow you sensed my presence,
running, leaping up into my arms.
And just like before, I held you tight
to protect you from life’s harms.

Hearts glowing with endless love,
we sang and danced in the rain,
glad you were whole once more,
beautiful and free from all pain.

Then your image began to fade,
as dawn broke, the sun bursting anew.
So I’ll hold on tight, waiting again for night,
dreams of the Rainbow Bridge and you.

For my sweet Tommy Breuning…. I love you.

Ecrits Blogophilia Week 30.13 Topic: Cats or Dogs
Hard Bonus (2 points): Include the phrase ‘cat got your tongue’
Easy Bonus (1 Point): Incorporate any song title by Andrew Lloyd Webber (“Memories,” from Cats; “Beautiful” from Love Never Dies)

SECRET BONUS GUESSES:

1. Cats and Dogs (in blog)
2. Cat’s got your tongue (in blog)
3. Rainbow Bridge (in blog)
4. It’s A Dog’s World
5. Best friends
6. Tongues Out
7. Trouble waiting to happen
8. Thelma and Louise
9. Trouble with a Capital T
10. Catty friends

Topic: Jay Picture: Christine

Shadows of My Father ~ The Poem and The Book

somfthumbnail1 — "Shadows of My Father" by Colleen Keller Breuning © 2011

Shadows of My Father

As a child, I walked through the park
hand in hand with my father.
Brimming with energy and innocence,
I played a game of hide and seek,
jumping into his enormous shadow.
My elfin figure was gobbled up
by his lumbering adumbration,
stretching long across the path
illuminated by the springtime sun.

Young and stupid in love,
I felt as if my father’s shadow
was falling over me, somehow
supplanted in my subconscious.
Though I could not see it,
I could feel his image lingering,
cutting through the darkness,
watching me as I made mistakes
from which he could not protect me.

I could sense his shadow slipping
away that New Year’s Day,
battle weary from the fight of his life.
With a weak smile on his face,
my father gazed at me
from his hospital bed.
I knew from the far away look
in his soft hazel eyes
that I was saying goodbye.

Now as I walk alone
with the sun on my back,
my own blackened silhouette
extends before me.
There are no huge hands to hold,
no large shadows to jump into.
But my soul is at peace,
and I smile, knowing that I carry
his shadow inside of mine.

This poem was the one that inspired me to do a tribute book of poetry to my father. Though the book contains many poems about experiences with my father, there are other subjects covered in the work presented within. I want to thank my family, friends and network of fellow writers who have shown great support, not only by purchasing the book, but in giving me such positive feedback throughout this process. I love you all!

Published in “Shadows of My Father”
Available now on Amazon:

https://www.createspace.com/3556166