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Let Go

Writer's picture: glenhaneyglenhaney

I see them all standing there

Mother behind her favorite chair

The dipping sun casts images on the wall

Exaggerating all

Like my little brother used to do

 

The past casts

Indelible shadows

On my now

 

When I write

I am too tame.

In the vice of habit,

I inhabit ground ploughed too long

Too often

 

Seeds wither and die

Words emerge like tired rabbits

Spending their last hop

Limping across my neatly lined page.



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1 Comment


Guest
Sep 09, 2024

Happy to see a new post

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©2021 by Glen Haney.

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