there are millions of us

the injured and those who love them, cast afloat on this ever changing tide

some whole, seeming untouched, floating high and strong…others less so, yet still much of their former self-ness in evidence

then, there are those who are but fragments…recognizable only to familiar eyes, and mothers’ hearts

we float…some seek comfort in familiar groups, rising and falling with the phases of the moon

others float on in solitude…silently desperate, utterly alone…slowly disappearing over the horizon

missed by no one

salvation is finding one another on the tide, reaching out, holding fast


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