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  Raud Kennedy
   
     

 

 

The Summit

 

Our breath lingers

in front of our faces

as we exhale

the mountain air

and look down

at the powder dusted valley.

Floating in the moment

between dangers passed

and the descent to come,

we laugh at our fear

of slipping and falling,

of being left alone

without the other.

 

 

 

Mother

 

At dinner

at her daughterís house,

she forces a smile,

but her darting eyes

give her away.

Her skin is screaming,

her eyes itching.

With a hot flash

of adrenaline,

the leading trail of detox

washes over her.

She needs her wine,

but she canít drink

around her ex-husband.

He told her

they were both alcoholics,

and now she must feign

sheís not.

But itís beyond that.

Everyone sees the nerve

damage,

the awkward walking,

the poor balance, drunk or sober.

She avoids

social affairs unless

thereís wine

available

and sheís accompanied

by others who wonít say

anything

about her drinking

because they donít want

anyone to say

anything

about their own.

When dinner

is over

she leaves

abruptly,

and her anxiety

wanes

now that her first sip

of wine

is just a short trip

away

and she wishes

she couldíve stayed

longer.

 

 

 


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