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When you're young and have something to prove.

When your fifty and beyond you are invisible.

When cynicism and paranoia eat your Soul.

When your grip on Earth isn't that tight.

When understanding dispels fear.

When no amount of influence can force a person to listen
if they have their mind made up.

When my brother or me will die and neither of us will know it.

When it seems like their only objective is to make you feel
like **** about yourself.

When we emulate our parents.

When we don't respect what we don't understand.

When we lose our patience and humility.

When we say we've let go of a grudge we haven't.

When we find God, lose Him and find Him again.

When we do wrong and can't get rid of it all.

When love magnetizes us and there is a ***** of hope.

When even facts are a matter of perception.

When poetry can set your heart free.

Sara Fielder © Nov 2023
as an infant,

i had no control.  

as a child,

i gave away control.

as a Youth, i flaunted control.

in midlife, i tolerated control.

in old age, i forgave conrol.

Sara Fielder © Nov 2023
On my thigh, I stroke the dogs forehead.

A velveteen appledome pillow,

marveling at how soft

it is,

and how she takes no exception

that I do so.

Just the two of us.

My fingertips summoning all the love

they can muster.

She curls into a ball with

corresponding sigh,

soul content in dreams,

hallucinating shapes and shadow,

Sleeping Beauty tree twigs snapping

underfoot and under paw,


mud puddles,  

frogs found, killed, and eaten

in the algamuck.

My voice and whistle stop commands

providing the directions.

The quaking yellow cottonwood leaves

raining down on us

as soft as she is.

Sara Fielder © Nov 2023
I'm starting to worry about myself.

Nothing is solicited.

Nothing is offered.

A mild sort of concentration camp

detachment sets in

as one watches their life

go by alone,

at home,

from the couch.

Burnt soup on the stove.

Remembering what real hunger felt like.

Childhood memories.

Waiting for someone to come home.

Feeling them in the room when no one does.

Forgetting to turn out the lights.

Hiding from the neighbors,

but still waving to the mailman.

Fantasizing about ***.

Calls you never answer.

Aches and pains in every position.


Returning to my senses asking,

"Who will find the body?"

Sara Fielder © Nov 2023
It happened because we let it happen.

It was made to happen and it did.

Because it happened to happen

we have to have more things happen

in order for the sum of all these
        happenings to be
                       advantageous to us.

Bottom line,

it happened, and now we happen to be what's happening.

It's an ongoing process,
   what's happening, and it can't cease now. Not for any reason.

Now is not the time
for anything else
       to happen but what
is happening.

What's happening now is unable
to not-happen because of all the happenings
    leading up to this
          unfortunate happenstance. Here
we, logically, happen.

If a hospital happened to be
    as a result, it was only an


concurrent happening,

not our primary intention,

but it was necessary to happen.

If the children happened to get slaughtered, it was necessary to happen.

We have a right to have it happen and
                                  have it
keep happening,

   even if we made it happen
Meh, just some words.
I'm sure I've killed things,

but I might not remember them all,

and at the time,

I rationalized the killing.

It's less complicated that way.

The fish, never went to waste.

The flies, need no justification.

That kick I gave the cat

I do feel bad about though.

Sara Fielder © Nov 2023
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