Her thoughts wander to life’s little quandaries
as claret fire warm her lips and loosens her thoughts.
No amount of wishes can make right the wrong turns
or undo the choices made which brought her here.

Wondering gets one nowhere
except trapped in useless dreams.

Each night the same, fine dinner, fine wine
passing conversation back and forth like cards.
Little thought given to any of it
only idle contact without affection.

Closeness breeds weakness
an imperfection in sensibility.

To the minds of some, two are halves of one
but not closed in these ruddy walls.
Here one lingers, isolated and remote
barely casting shadows to affirm existence.

A second poem flew of my fingers today, so I had to post two for the same prompt. Giving due honor to e.e. cummings for the snippet “two are halves of one”.

oneword: fences

there are fences in the mind
fences that cordon off my thoughts
forming compartments for people
separating ideas
dividing possibilities
sometimes I wonder what my life would be like
without fences

it is not fair to let things be divided
segregated for no good reason

fences in the mind creating pastures of thought
fields broken
hillsides cracked with artificial airy walls

there are fences in the mind
I seek to pull them apart, stick by stick
post by post
freeing the lumbering thoughts they corral
opening the expanses of thought
bringing to life possibilities

fences fall down