“She was there until she was gone”—Butterflies are free, like in the old seventies film.
And women are free as well, they may lite upon our branch for a few seconds…but we must not try to hold them.
They will come back if they wish.
Like this poem a lot, Neville.
j.

Hello Jacob, it is good to see you have joined the new gang .. and thanks tons for reaching out & considering my little but not so new scribble .. Indeed, many thanks indeed sir & wishing you well .. Neville 😎👍

Tremendous work, as always my friend.

My dad had to work two jobs as a kid during the depression because his dad had died and he had to support his mom.
This is intense but also beautiful lyrically.
Reminds me of the film The Grapes of Wrath.

The Joad family…”I’ll be there Ma, yeah, I’ll be there!”

I liked how you discussed this. Looking through one person’s point of view and I could see it.

Powerfully penned, Tim. Excellent write my friend. Appreciate you.

Damian

My goodness, this hit me in the gut. My mother passed 8 years ago. But I still sense her keeping an eye on me from above…so I must weigh my decisions carefully.
very relatable write.
j.

Short and sweet — or sweaty. I’ve got to admit, Sam, we were very much alike. Thoughts always moved toward females and food, and the latter would always lose out to the former. I got a good laugh out of the ending. You’re very good at doing that.

Thanks. The story is about half true.

I love it! Like a 1970’s memory or movie! Starring Sammy Dickens as himself. Most of mine are like that unless I experiment a bit. A couple from the dude perspective and a trilogy as a dog.

Thank you so much.