That time, playing in the muck,foot emerging without a boot,hopping and laughingall the way home… Then, later, on the busthe impact of the carthe windshield crackinglike a giant spiderblood all overthe dead lady’s face All in the past –sunroof openkids riding along,music blaring But trauma is a spiderArachne reaching into happy placesand as much as […]
Measured in spoonfulsprogress imperceptible Still feel the angst ofno-time-to-breathe lifestyle pressured from withinto get-it-done spend unavailable resourcesruminating solutions push against the wallswith little to show surrender to impotencyand wait for the next surge.
Sister was a hurricane –destruction her path Tried to calm, encouragebut her core was damaged Try to reach her now, across death’s abyss understand beforeher legacy swallows me.
It’s like reading a private journal entry, how lovely.
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Thanks Paul.
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Pleasure VJ
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I, too, am an unashamed fan of pink!
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Yahoo!
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😀
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I know what you mean about pink as a child. Never my choice, as it usually meant something fancy or something that would slow me down. Also it was my sister’s typical choice (there’s a big reason right there LOL)
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Lol. Thanks.
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well done V.J. 🙂
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Great phrase: contours of pink
Acquired a new coffee mug for the Airstream that Gary will easily recognize as “hers”.
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hahaha – how are the travels going? Summer has definitely arrived here with hot, hot, hot. Thanks, Jazz.
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Lovely!
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Thank you!
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