Parked my car, woman In the next car, sobbing. I Want to comfort, can’t.

Fiction, memoir, and musings, from Minotaur Productions
Parked my car, woman In the next car, sobbing. I Want to comfort, can’t.
When I am on my Own, my words dance from my mind To my tongue, fill the Air with joyous song. When I am with
In an undergrad Class many years ago, a Classmate, orthodox Jewish, nineteen, told Us about verbal abuse He’d endured by a Random passerby That morning,
I cannot decide Which vexes me more: your gaze Or its withdrawal.
Certain am I you Will be happier without Me dragging you down.
No parent should loseTheir child to war. SorrowIncomparable. Distill my oil,Bake my pastries, that in myCommerce you may come To table with ourEnemies, that peace