Past love’s deadline
wolves no longer prowl
vultures, smelling rot,
circle overhead, plot

My essence is solitary
feather fallen between
wide-eyed expectancy
and maturity’s abyss

Abandonment or neglect
I truly cannot say…

(Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own.)


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Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

27 thoughts on “Solitaire”

  1. A very reflective poem V.J…. and it’s’ past this poet’s bedtime too… I shall go before that vulture eats my pumpkin … I hope you are keeping well.. Cheers from down here in Geelong…

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