Finding Grace

She thought that he was

nothing but trouble,

the way his eyes and smile

made her want to do wrong,

but he never

asked her

to do wrong,

so she just kept moving on.


She thought she’d found an answer,

between the walls of a prison cell;

that looked an awful lot

like domestic bliss

and felt an awful lot like hell.

In the light of one grey November dawn,

she was gone.


Her search for life

could take her anywhere.

Her mind only rested

in between the here and there.


Sometimes  the search is for

the journey, not the place;

wind in her hair,

trouble at her back

and sun upon her face.

We all have our own ways of finding Grace.


HG – 2016

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