Happily ever after smolders on the ash heap
Moving on without a touchstone, not a penny in my purse,
the distant whistle's wailing underscores my desolation
Yearning for my yesterday, I hurry to the window
in my shabby, shuffling sandals, unholy holey hose
For the first time in thirty-four years, I am responsible for ONLY ME. For. the. first. time. Not my kids, not Bob, not everyone else first before me. My children are grown and very capable of taking care of their own lives and have been for some time. Of course, I wil...