Stone Angel
I looked past the stone angel
to the open front door,
saw the back of a recliner
in the living room beyond.
The vice grip of longing:
a little house for us in Lenox,
a cat, a dog, a yard
full of flowers for pollinators.
We’re sipping tea on an autumn morning,
reading our books and chatting.
I don’t even know if that’s what I want.
Not this.
Not this.
Not this.
/ / /
20 August 2025
Charlottesville VA
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