maybe it comes when you’re sifting brusselsprouts
in hot oil
with no particular thing
in mind
a sting
that fills
and empties
a sigh of sorts
this waft of smoke
that fills your
tired eyes
it was here
in this place
and then it was not
and you were not
– sheila c
sheila sea 
Nice write. Congrats.
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Thank you!
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nite. 🙂
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nite nite
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🙂
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Very Nice!
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Thank you!
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Great poem!
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Thank you so much.
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Brusselsprouts and the thought of lost love … A nice contrast. And true in that the ordinary brings to mind the extraordinary. I knew an ex-Nam GI who told me of his senses, which often triggered halucinations of being at war: a breeze, an aroma, a sound, the beat of the sun. And he was transported from a benign sensation into the pit of hell. They are powerful things, these minds of ours.
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It’s so interesting that you’d bring up PTSD because I’ve always felt like some relationship can end and leave you with a mild sense of stress disorder.. triggered by grief and memories. Indeed the mind is extraordinary.
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Hi Skip! I went to respond to your last comment about my probable match.com future and I deleted by mistake.. it gave me a hardy laugh, haha. thank you. I’m a dramatic writer, not all is as bad as it seems. 🙂
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