18 months

Working on it. Missing my son. Sad.
Pitching stones to watch the ripples.
Looking
Not just for yesterday’s joys…
But for some joy tomorrow.
And learning all these new lessons
As I cradle my wounded soul
As I pick up pieces
Balancing
Bags and boxes and keys
Trying to unlock the door.

18 months seems like a lifetime
Seem like yesterday

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