By Mike O’Connell
she stands outside
waiting for a sign from the fates reflecting on memories of a far home
only reachable by imagination
managing the heartache
that attempts to consume her
adapting this place
to match her wanting
for a place of comfort
a substitute existence
in a whirling world
threatening grief
for a lost ideal

she stands outside
watching the gulls
wishing she could join
them high up
high enough to see her hone
an oasis a crying world

she stands alone outside
even with the milling crowds
around her and smiles
wandering through the old house
happy warm loved
looking for things
she left behind


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