memories

there’s glory after this

and hope to carry us there

seems so cliché when

we’ve become so accustomed to fear of the invisible and distance between us and those who should be the closest

the energy required to decipher lies and discern spirits is much more than i anticipated — how about you?

failed attempts to mend broken connections like dropped calls in dead spots on country roads that remind me of Saturday morning rides with my great-gram and great-aunt that i unfortunately dreaded at the time

i miss them both now — and i wish i had known back then just how much i would eventually be willing to give for just one more ride today

just one more

and watch the barns and tobacco fields swoosh by my window

hear them laugh again as we headed to pick strawberries in hot sunlight that bathed me —

at least i have the memories

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