skip to main |
skip to sidebar
Another allowed how often what upsets
Us so with someone else is the recognition of
Ourself in them.
My impatience, lack as a teacher, carrying
too much hurt and jealous of those who have
Another to share,
All mine, these faults, wherever I see them.
Mine, yes and yet, am I really the only one
At fault here?
Another friend has called me an awful person.
I have treated her badly and unkindly, been
Hurtful and frightening.
One, I may be able to dismiss but now two?
I have to own it. And must remember I can
Count the people
Who care for me on less than one hand. Remember,
Goad self: suck in, lay low, all are better. Should,
Really, just leave.
I asked as a child, please G-d don’t let me live
And die in the only one place as did my elegant aunt.
And G-d didn’t.
Later in life I swore never again would one dear to me
Die without that last voice heard, touch felt should be mine.
G-d granted that.
Mine was the last voice, touch for you. I am glad. I will
Live alone, die alone, untouched, unheard. Of G-d, I will
Ask no more.
Revue: life as linder. I can love again. Another, even
Myself, finally. I have had good love. I will not
Settle for less.
To tired to move, I have pushed too much, finally
Hang that hammock, spend the rest of the day
Reading and sleeping.
Second Saturday again. I sell. Meet the young man
I painted, horse paintings are liked, things
Are going well
Six decades now I have walked this earth.
Never did I think at this point to be dependent
Solely on myself.
Half a decade, now, I have had to assimilate
This through my heart and soul. Yet, ends still
Dangle hurtfully raw
And I still find weighing choices alone
Not pleasant, somewhat easier. Just still miss you
doing it, too
last week was fun, this one hard. Doing things
For the shop, I have driven myself past strength
To bone-tired weary.
It is doing well. Now for myself on this day,
Another choice, give the same attention
Now for myself.
