Nothing New
Nothing new; nothing normal. Not much to talk about.
She speaks of people I do not know.
I have already told her my stories.
She is my mother, yet, what do we have in common?
I visit less and less often.
Angry about one thing, yet I do not tell her.
Figuring she should know how she wronged me.
Not enjoying our visit actually. A have to. Her birthday week.
Nothing new. A stilted hug good bye.
She is not a hugger. She says I love you only on the phone
When she cannot see me. I do not say it to her either.
Two women who do not know each other.
Looking back now I wish there had been more.
But there wasn’t.
And now there is no second chance.
Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2020
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