On Recognizing My Projections

Mother and child scoot across the boardwalk baby safe in belly as she runs - the day is precious and blue. Ancient lovers dance slowly and deliberately, down the walkway, heads down, chatting, discussing, being with his arm dropped gently across her shoulder like a statement - a special spot he always finds to comfort. My own tears come uncomplicated, (time never waits) bitter sweet. August 15, 2015