Being strapped to a life that squeezes the inner life from
me unless I'm careful not to let it happen.
Stress and turmoil have a way of disturbing my essence, esp-
ecially when directed straight at me through my husband's
dementia.
Taking away peace and solitude that I try preciously to keep
hidden deeply within, a cherished aspect of my passion that
I protect.
Giving energy needed to expend all of intellect in writing
poetry constantly and incessantly, loving to be in a bluened
atmosphere where not even he can get to me.
A beautiful and enticing part of my being, continually keep-
ing me going through it all over and over again, trying to
regain the life I've always had.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem