The first poppy

Alone I fall off into the mud
you speak of promise and hope
and hugs I pull myself up out
of my sinkhole, brushing off
the muck, cleaning my hands on
the green grasses. Typing is
easier when my fingers are not
stuck together in fear.


One thought on “Friends (for Jane and Margaret)

Any thoughts on the above post are appreciated! Otherwise, I think I must be living under a rock.

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