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Regrets (New Poem)

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Regrets

The things I did, decisions I made, actions
I took: moving restlessly from one house,
town, city, job, lover, to another
in search of more and better but
every move was lateral—
–and became collateral, leading to this
endgame.

Worse than these, the things I did not do
decisions made to take no
action: letting things happen with a
shrug, pretending to be flowing
not knowing every shrug is assent—
leading to this empty endgame.

Of these, the action not taken
out of fear: denial, pretense,
turning away. The time the
Ku Klux Klan burned a cross
nearby and I continued writing
about the town’s new sewer system.

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2 responses »

  1. Wow, M. Thank you for sharing this.

  2. “Every shrug was assent”: so accurate, so true.
    A magnificently honest poem, Marcy. You have both insight and courage. The shrugged assents of the past are writing and poetry now, and we are the beneficiaries. Thank you.

    Thank you. It makes me blush with pleasure when people like my poems.–MS

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