Each day I’m drawn in
turtle-tight.
I mourn the old way
I shopped, the old way
I chatted with co-workers,
gossiped as Yelena cut my hair,
or watched my children walk,
with heavy schoolbooks. Continue reading
Each day I’m drawn in
turtle-tight.
I mourn the old way
I shopped, the old way
I chatted with co-workers,
gossiped as Yelena cut my hair,
or watched my children walk,
with heavy schoolbooks. Continue reading