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Promises, Promises
by Mary Langer Thompson

She's in control,
doesn't care what we say
behind her back,
the other woman, child, and black
dog between her and him.

She grasps the oars,
but just for today.

The blues connect them,
hers more vibrant,
and she knows it,
all other shades fading.

Gabriele turns slightly toward
the wide-eyed child
as if to say, "Here's the catch
on how to live, how to love …"

Soon the blades will slap the deep lake water,
and propel her toward her fate.

 


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