When words feel less than adequate they stalland quake as they try to express meaning,like angel-wing begonias weak andfaded for lack of sun and nutrients.Unable to flower, they drop their wingsone by one, hoping to draw relieffrom beings like me who breathe next to them,and sometimes remember to love and serve.Loving service seems lost in the shallowsof partnership these days, but the lapse istemporary. Who will turn to whom first?Who will succumb to longing and to thirst?Rather, why stall and fade and worry? Why wait?When you know living together is fate?
My blog poems are rough drafts.
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© 2021 Susan L. Chast