Life is too short. Maybe I waited too long.
My time, always wrapped around my two greatest loves.
The way I wanted to. The way I wanted it.
I've kept my feet planted. Maybe too firmly.
Showing my babes the way.
Not taking many risks. If any.
Writing.
Everything grows. Changes.
The ground moves. Shaky.
Time is more free. More abundant.
Sometimes I look around and I'm standing alone.
I write some more.
Almost too much.
Taking the risk.
Words shape into unsent letters.
The smallest of possiblitlies daydream about the greater ones.
Some things aren't possible.
The timing is off.
Some kind of connection. None at all.
It's all ridiculous, except it's not.
The heart aches a littlle. A little too much.
***
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