Simple

Our tentative offerings,
our hapless lurching –
towards what we wish,
away from what we fear

Our ill-fated attempts
to make some sense
of you, of me, of work, of friendship,
can hold together
no better than
marbles balanced on each other

They roll away so quickly
in haphazard rattling,
and what holds us together?

Yet here we are.
Call it miraculous,
or call it a simple fact of being,
one that helps us
more than we know.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 23, 2023

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