A New Book. {Poem}

Our frog died last night. 
I went to feed her this morning 
And she was belly up on the gravel. 
I flushed 8 years of memories down the toilet. 
The witness; 
She’s finally gone.
So is that life.
Weird.
I still can’t quite believe this is reality now.
It’s a far better reality than I could have imagined
But still—I think back to that day in the shop,
When Emma pointed to the little tank of African Dwarf frogs.
“Froggies!”
I thought she’d last a year or two, not eight.
But, she did.
She was the last remnant of that existence,
And now it’s over.
Nothing looks the same anymore.
I can no longer dig my uncertainty safely into the elusive nook of nostalgia.
The walls are new, so are the people.
I have to pay attention when I drive,
Where I turn,
Where I park.
I’ve wondered where to begin my story
And where to finish it.
I think this is it.
Here.
This place.
On my own.
There are no ghosts.
It’s clear.
Steady.
Stable.
A perfect place to build
New memories.
New relationships.
A new life.
A new book. ~Rebecca

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