Woman without Dog

In motion and size
her shadow is lessened,
the cadence of her stride
no longer hastens, led by
rolliciking bursts of storm
that pulled her along.

Arms hang lax of what
to do or hug or caress
or beckon; hands inert,
missing a lifeline fallen
and gone like a summer’s
vine on a winter’s pond.

(for Wendover Brown and Bradley)

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