To retaliate or to forgive
the pain still raw
the fear biting
confusion
I choose to stop
and be still
and choose to not choose

I stand by my babies
who are no longer babies
to support them
and hold them up
I choose to be there
and to hug them
and to fight to the end
that which hurts them
internally or externally

and to sit
and be still
and to hold tight
to my world

After the week we’ve had here, this prompt post from Blogalicious really called to me…

Reach out your heart
And take my hand
Let me be your strength
In friendship
and in love
You hold mine
I yours tight in turn

our fingers may
touch tip to tip
or May not be able to reach
Our hearts can touch
minds can touch
the strength we share
Can cross the roughest seas

Take from me
my strength
and love
From you
I steal
your woes
Times may get rough
and tears we share
our hearts and hands stay true

Brighter days
by calmer streams
beneath the willows trail
Hand in hand
heart by heart
together we will stroll.

The picture was taken by a talented young photographer Christopher Wells of Connecticut and it said so much to me.  Thank you Christopher!!!

White basement holding pen
no windows
one obvious door
incoming only
no one yell fire
the stampede would be epic

Rainy morning
umbrellas
damp hair
damp people
damp demeanor
the smell
of not quite wet dog
mixed with
undisguised body odor
and wet cigarette smoke
hangs low
in the still dank air
imagine this room
in the heat
of a central texas noon

shudders

Stragglers arrive
vain hunt
somewhere to sit
a few take residence
on floor at wall
older women stand
as dapper Dan’s bag
and Mistress Mary glory purse
hold refuge on
there very own chairs

uppermost in every mind
how do I
get out of this
can I lie
about my kids
about my past
about what this
call to duty
costs me

Did anyone notice
the soldier’s statue
they walked past
entering the dungeon
the man representing
all who have died
so we can enjoy
the freedom
to whine about
what we are here to do