Someone Else's Loss
Love makes bitches of us all,
in the fading light of afternoon when
the shadows of trees fall across our faces
like hazy bars in a prison of sentiment.
Blurry perhaps, though solidly
binding, they bend us --
into forced submission
to the will of an uncaring other.
Poetry
There is an edge to this and a truth which we feel from others and can even describe ourselves sometimes. But a truth nonetheless. Hi, sweetie! Hope you and yours are well. I'm back with Mom in tow. She's staying here for a few days this week, then off to have her stay with my sister's family, then Mom's back for a few days next week before I take her back home. What a joy to have her here with me! All good things to you, hugs and peace!
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