MIXED EMOTIONSA Poem by Betty Hermeleeno finalityWhilst we reach the hotel, my legs feel like jelly Christine exits the cab first then waits for me to vacate Edward rolls down his window and I pay him, he still refuses money I sense he would like to chat for a bit, yet I am tired and in need of some rest I politely reveal another time, when I call him for a ride He agrees and says it was a pleasure and calls me by name I am flattered, such a gentleman
Christine invites me into the parlor for some tea We chat about the flat and how perfect it shall be for the two of us, though it needs a bit of work She offers to help me and I thank her profusely At once I feel the baby move a bit Christine comes around to feel my belly I can tell she is overjoyed about my pregnancy As I am
Following our chat about the apartment It comes to mind that I must see the doctor It has been at least a month of worries Grieving, anger, and now perhaps I can move on a bit Though not entirely I still cry, and recall flashes of endearment to Henry Especially when I am alone, yet I have much to look forward to as well
I shall call the doctor to make an appointment He does not know about my future yet and it is timely to share with him I am sure he is aware that I had to leave Henry As he left the decision up to us However, there really was no us and still there is no us, since Henry is completely out of it and prepared to go home It was left as an assumption Therefore, I shall say nothing regarding him until he asks
At once I have another flashback of Henry and me This time we are on a picnic, a very sensual outing With the smell of grass, a quiet breeze and the two of us alone in a meadow, me gazing into those blue eyes
I quickly withdraw my memory and return to reality Climb the stairs to my bedroom and collapse on my bed T’s when I am alone that I grieve Which I believe is quite normal and probably shall go on for some time
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7 Reviews Added on October 21, 2025 Last Updated on October 21, 2025 AuthorBetty HermeleeBlack Mountain, NCAboutMy love of poetry results from my love of art. As a painter I am able to express myself on a canvas. As a poet my words come from my heart, my moods, sometimes sad, mostly upbeat. I like to use vivid .. more.. |

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