Wednesday, 22 November 2017




feeling smaller
than a ladybug's spot
she sits on the garden bench
watching a turtle disappear
into the tangled brush
perhaps the willows
will hear her weeping
and flutter her grief
onto the healing wind
of time and change and
love and life and death
and rebirth
she starts
with a single step
and creeps across
the newly mown grass

mj poem

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