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Wednesday, October 15, 2014

Try


My first husband, 25 years my senior, would have been 81 today. We divorced in 2001 and he passed away less than 7 months after the divorce was final. He was an alcoholic, and his disease was the end of us. This poem reflects how hard it was for me to leave, how he wanted me to not go through with the divorce, and how rough that particular 18 months was. We were married for 15 years. 





All the days
All the nights
All the sounds
All the sights
All the words
All the ways

You tried to tell me
I should have listened

Try again
Try anew
Try for me
Try for you
Try for us
Try I beg you

I am listening now

~Ellen Apple 10/15/2014

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