Muse

I used to have one. She giggled softly in my ear and helped me dance.

Now all I seem to hear are the voices of mothering and stern business.

Where has my muse danced off to?

I miss the rhythm in my hips.

Sigh.

3 thoughts on “Muse

  1. This, too, shall pass.

    Mine is gone too, but she’ll come back. This is the quietest time no matter what year it is, at least for me. The lights in the dark have burned up most of their magic and there’s no spring yet for awhile. But she’ll come back. This part, when things have gotten better than the darkest night, but are still a looooong way from those days that last forever, this is the real hard part. This is where the real vigil is. I am here too.

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