Woke up suddenly thinking I heard crying.
Rushed through the dark house.
Stopped, remembering. Stood looking
out at bright moonlight on concrete.
There is a snowoman on my neighbor's front lawn.
She wears a bonnet in the moonlight and shrinks
away a bit more each day. She is divorcing him.
Even if you divorce for a good reason, the process of going from we to me, is a daunting one.
I’m rather amazed at the low popularity of this poem. Possibly the average reader hasn’t experienced a divorce and the distorted time that can surround it… Then again, such is poetry.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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11/26/2023 9:18:36 AM # 184.108.40.2067