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Memoir Without Music
by MFrostDelaney
Having lived the life of one who’s shunned
by parents, sisters, even my own son,
I look for love in many other places –
with husbands come and gone, with many friends,
the ones so-called, the ones who ebb and wane.
At times it’s hard to not dismiss myself.
And so I write to pour my tender heart
onto a page that’s blank, but soft, and waits
for all those episodes, the many hates
that keep us at arm’s-length, to somehow part.
My notebooks line the walls, shelf after shelf.
But more important writings are my main
recordings – all the care I’ve given – mends
administered by me, the many cases
of kindnesses, my love to them. Not one
do I regret, all in the book. I’m stunned
at times – it is a memoir of love songs
without music … for which my heart so longs.
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