The hopeless case
A holy grail
The codependent swoon
The eldest child
A married man
Guitarist and a spoon
With cactus dreams
A westbound bus
No quarter left to find
Believes in “us”
But what us will I find?
Note: This was written in response to today’s Daily Post prompt, Trace. I’ve always really enjoyed bus upholstery. The first time I saw brightly colored bus upholstery was on a very nice shuttle bus in London, when I was 17. My dad’s an upholsterer, so little details like that always give me a thrill. It’s a strange life, but someone has to exist in it, right? Anyway, this poem is about being alone, and how the people we’ve left – and who have left us – are still there, just under the skin. We’re just distracting ourselves with the superficial patterns, to avoid paying attention.
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Hi, I have a favor that I ask for all my friends (I’m contacting more than 1000 of my friends, because they couldn’t find me)
If you have no trouble opening my site you can ignore this message.
I messed up my site link. I made a little change and got in big trouble.
My old site (deleted, that’s why you can’t find me anymore)
My new site is The Shower of Blessings (the “s” is in different place, so is the link)
The new link is https://theshowerofblessings.wordpress.com
You may have to click the new link and follow my new site again in order to see me show up in your Reader.
Sorry for the trouble. Thank you, Miriam