waiting, patiently

.

.

.

.

And Through It All

(  there is Grace  )

 

 

each day,  when I think of all the Moments and Memories kept from

ever knowing their beginning or end,  just because my self-centered

regard for your Presence in my life placed you there,  instead of Here,

      it breaks my heart,  again . . .

.

.

013

.    

      for nigh on seven Summers . . .

.

.

.

.

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