Lee’s Side

Featured, Fiction & Poetry, Poetry — By on November 21, 2010 at 8:00 am

Her note held no regret, just explanation:
The wind. I could no longer stand the wind.
Our union stood three years,
survivors lashed together
living bent against the onslaught.

But she finally cut loose.
I do not blame her,
she did not grow up under the wind.

The postcard came months later,
sent from a languid state
somewhere downwind,
on a final updraft of grace:
I’m sorry. But I have tulips now. Love, Lee.

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