I’ll get there when I get there
she always said
torturing the fast-moving
the odor of weariness
on her clothes
in her hair
stolen time
in the middle of the day
but not too long
never too long
draped
like an afterthought
on the end of the couch
walled off
by veiled eyes
her head on a bent-arm pillow
the next worry
puckering
her forehead
as weakness gloated
in self-care’s limelight
Photo Credit
Photo courtesy of Carol Good – all rights reserved
Very nice Carol!
Thank you my friend:)