The rose and the thorn is one
the bud that comes in Spring
will come
The tread marks on the road far
The illusions that we keep dear
The antithesis of happiness is
a place I do not want to go
The red ribbons of Christmas past
go back in storage
Time moves quickly over us
The New Year brings her own set of
priorities
I sit unable to walk far
22 houses is my walk
the world does not wait for
my recovery
I do.
Anita Schiffman Holzberg
Tuesday, 3 January 2012
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