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For the Convenience of Naming

Something has disappeared that was no good after all.


In a late night happy-tired stretch

she sees she’s just the same she that she’s

always been,

and she feels will always be.

Not a teacher, not a writer,

not a spiritual person,

not wearing this religion or waving that flag,

not even a mother or wife,

not nothing

not something either.


Earlier that day she met together with others

in sameness

with no thought

“We are the same”. Just meeting them

as that moment came along

then the next and the next,

like a good tap dancer

meets each moment of rhythm with matching feet.


Later (now)