Writing outside sequential linear time’sunimportant
tales open,meanderinglifeordinates messy stutterings, heart judders,
soul searching.
Hertory much like others filled with little deeds,mundane acts,
how to judge a small life of little action but much kindness
though her wisdom is now lost to me andI mourn it’s passing.
I came late into her story, a bit part, she in turn leftmine early,
taking her final bow with style and grace, as the curtain fell.
How to take the measure her life that I find the hardest to unravel.
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