The little hand vulnerable from birth
Gets less and less so
The big hand supportive from birth
becomes more and more vulnerable
Time doesn’t stop
Yet we live in time loops
Circling back over and over
Catching our breath before its gone
Trying to fill the sullen dearth
Keep on dancing till its so
Feel the rebirth
Spring from the cages and be durable
So sick of that same old crop
Stop jumping through those hoops
The small hand provides cover
And then it is done
Categories: childhood, Culture, mental health, photography, poetry, Psychology, weird, women, work
psychologistmimi 
Yes time did not stop, agreed with you, great post
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Is this another demo of your usual creative way of seeing time and life’s changes? Seems that way to me, and I so appreciate it. I hope your move to L.A. is more “successful” than your time in SF. One of your other posts made me so wish you would post some stories from that job, though. I live, laugh and seethe vicariously through them, you know.
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