A red horizontal line
Creates a one-inch abyss
Down the left side of my page.
To the right is the important material:
Meeting notes
Lesson plans
Shopping lists–
Tasks that orchestrate all movement,
Things that must be done
Immediately and with urgency.
Meticulously they are arranged on the page
In a methodical top-to-bottom fashion.

But off to the left
Scrawled in the margins
Of my orderly existence
Is life’s whimsy–
Fanciful sketches.
Swirls that mimic the lifeline
Of the palm of my left hand;
The name of a long-lost lover
Whose face has been bleached
With the coarseness of time;
Scrolls and stars, constellations of thought
Created of ink in aimless patterns;
The names of children
My womb will never bear;
Twinges of veiled intimacies,
Idyllic and idealistic,
They linger in the periphery.

And life quietly brews on the edges.


Published by


Mommy, Writer, Teacher, BRCA2+ Previvor, Sports Fan, Logophile, Bibliophile, Hedonist, Perpetual Bon Vivant mixed with the Occasional Curmudgeon. you can find me on Twitter @CharIsAWriter and here at

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