[Critique Group 2] (no subject)

[tuchyner5 at aol.com]

This is astory about trying to reconnect with the young girl she used to be. 



She wonders ifthat is really her and still there. 



She realizesthat she is  still the same person. 



She recognizesher as she hums a dillon song. 



The years havenot undone her.




 


Last night I was17,



dressed inbell-bottom jeans 



with tie dyeshirt.



Typical. Acustomary presentation.




 


Jabbering to myclosest friend,



I spilled mydeepest thoughts



withoutreservation.



Spontaneoustrust. 




 


Life wasmiraculous..yet cruel, too.



My convictionsflowed around me



like the dark,frizzy hair



cascaded down myback.



This girl wascarefree.




 


Where is the girlI was--



all these yearson--is she faded by time,



hard knocks,shattered ideals?



She missesthat person. 




Is she ruined.The question is asked. Has life changed her.




 


I grab at hermemories as 



I sip steamingcoffee,



aware of my agingfrailty.



She tries tocontact her, by grabbing at her memories.




 


She's me as Isweep the floor, 



feed the cat,



plan a grocerylist.



The answer isthat she is still there doing the things that have become her life. 




 


I hum a Dylanmasterpiece,



realizing--beyondgray hair and wisdom--



she talks withwords written on a waiting page.



That last linethrows me. 



Does she talkthrough the voice of Dillon. 



I think itmeans she does, 



and in thatshe is still heard.  



She can beheard in the notes and words written on a page. 


-------------- next part --------------
An HTML attachment was scrubbed...
URL: <http://bluegrasspals.com/pipermail/group2/attachments/20200205/1b0c3690/attachment.html>