I am scattered about,
with the cat’s toys, the dirty laundry,
the crumbs on the countertops and under the table,
In the midst of halfhearted kisses,
Between unfinished sentences,
Abandoned to ‘whatever’.
In puzzle pieces,
of not all the same picture,
The farmer’s wife with lots of kids,
And animals, a horse maybe, chickens.
The surgeon since dissecting animals in lab was second nature,
The missionary to inner-city kids,
Speaking out what “Jesus loves you” really means,
A recluse living in a woodland tiny house with a garden and solar power.
I am in pieces,
divided up among real life.
Connect with me at:https://www.facebook.com/clare.graith.5