Libby
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She experienced life
in her own way
The way a woman will.
At times she loved a man.
At times she was alone.
Collecting Memories,
Like shells on a beach
Or stored in jars,
Beside the mirror
In her bathroom.
Water, always the way,
In which her life flowed.
And now, she returned
To the memory of a well,
Into which she once
Cast her wishes.
Like the one about that boy.
The one..
That never came true.
Copyright © Vernon Witmer | Year Posted 2023
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