Carried

Sapling pulled from soft soil

           Roots exposed



Trembling
                   the evening breeze



Together

                 we ask why


I say something

You laugh nervously


We walk away

with a new memory to carry

Dedicated To

She is beauty and light 
but she is not a dame from antiquity
to be viewed from a pedestal,
an unreachable goddess.
She is mortal and fallible,
a joy and a chore,
a human from toe to crown.

Point of View

Despondency digs

a deeper grave

for you than you

could ever make

alone.

Child

get hold of

your life

and stop

grasping

at straws.