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Listening

“There have been men who sank down into Hell
  In some suburban street”
    ~ C. S. Lewis aka Clive Hamilton, Poem xxxii titled “Our Daily Bread” from Spirits in Bondage (1919)

This place we call home
Doesn’t quite fit you or me
We speak our old language
Know a different sort of life
Other values

You introduced to me the best way
Personally
The Jewish Community Center
With its beautiful music
Southern Lumber
Where my husband and I have since often left money
The open space
Where we climbed the trails
Your legs were strong then
And true
As I yet see you

At home with your wife and daughters
You told me to listen
To Prozac like you
When the foreignness of it all
Had become too much

How do I see you
Not like this
Not living alone
Not with Parkinson’s tremblings
Not unable to walk out the door
Not fearful

Is the vision mine
Alone
No use listening to me
Ever try listening to yourself?

Thanks always returns

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