Anxiety burnsan acidic devouring confidence impaled –mind wanders to childhood dreamsuncovers fear’s origin. (Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. I came across this tanka written in May/21 that seemed to match with the image I recently posted on my other blog. I decided to pair them here.)
We wait at the station, Mother and I,one final stop for her – painless she prays;I busied at bedside – prolonged goodbye –memories and regrets filling our days. “We live too long,” she wearily proclaims“Why must suffering linger till the end?”I plea and bargain, call angelic names,yet the will to survive refuses to bend. The […]
There are mouse bitssplayed across the sunroomstuck to my favourite throw rug and great globs of glue The trap my husband setto catch the recent invasionapparently lured the hunterfor she, stiff legged andface matted, is skulkingelsewhere I stepped on a gluey biteyes not yet openbefore notingthe disarray Hard to concentratewhen a tail detachedfrom a thigh […]
I can agree to that stitch a new garment thought but can we do this?
As a one single unit?
I doubt that.
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Me too. But without inspiration to guide us, we won’t try.
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Yes, you are right 🙂
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A hard truth to accept that normal never was, but truth it is.
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Amen! 🌸
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Amen to that! And I agree, this is our opportunity to change for the better.
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…stitch a new garment…. Exactly right. Thank you for sharing this.
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My pleasure, Andrea.
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