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
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