Eye On Life Magazine

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“The Wood”

He left on a Wednesday

Half of our lives, the best of mine, suddenly ash

I had carried my anger for some time

I had been settled, ready

 

He had stepped back, hopelessly dreaming

of taking flight among the tree tops, bursting

through the white clouds to climb aboard his Jolly Roger

 

Something snapped

All was divided, bitter and common

The clouds would soon break

Leaving only a soggy and crow-filled wood

 

-- Deanna M. Jessup