the gate

I am not concerned with this skin and bone.

the view? character, heart, soul.

the lesser falls away as I embrace my design-

er.

I’m concerned with how to concern myself

times investment-

my heart.

drawing lines.

Who is the woman you created?

How can I find her? –again

Can she eat cinnamon chip scones

without partial disappointment?

I want time for myself. I heard-

the other day

that a person’s complaints are where

their heart resides. What matters

to them.

Time. I want time. I crave time.

Selfish?

Perhaps.

Well, yes, actually, it probably is.

I seek straight lines and quiet

baby coo’s and small voices

hot coffee and small talk- meaningful

A writer’s life-

you say? Not me,

this is anything but.

I want gutted-

swept clean,

and reoccupied.

As painless as possible, please.

Today is a start.

Warm lunch with my son

and little tasks to add “self- reflection”.

Small is the gate

narrow the road-

we travel hand in hand.

baby’s tight grip.


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