Through Writing, Almost

Often
I look back at old writing
Of days, weeks, or months ago
And can only cringe
In embarrassment or shame

But then, sometimes
I can look back at those same verses
Days, weeks, or months past
And see them differently
See the writer from a different angle
As though she’s someone else
As though she’s someone I know
Better than I believed

And sometimes, in those moments
For just a short while
I can see her a little clearer
I see where she’s coming from
Where she may be headed
And with a little more almost-ruthless compassion
With each poem written bringing me a little closer
I wonder if, should she write just a few more
I might almost be able to love her

.

July 20, 2025