A little less golden
I am
a rainbow of emotions
from excruciating sadness pulling
on my chest
and tugging at my soul
to
tearful and transcending joy at
breaking free
from
past chains
and captive prisons
and
all the colors in between . . .
I am
flummoxed, discovering on my last day
a coffee cup planter
on the table
where we have group
next to where I always sit
camouflaged
in the open space by my internal world
I am
told
advised
consoled
encouraged
that other opportunities emerge
dressed in a different color
maybe lavender, possibly chartreuse, hopefully shamrock
but God forbid, gray
but . . .
although . . .
however, and in retrospect
they will be
a little less golden . . .
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