Used to be friends,
much beloved kitties,
men I thought were mates – who weren’t,
belongings I lost along the way (that I still randomly include in my dreams)
plans I had for my life,
hope for the future.
That smoking hot body I remember,
the fruit trees I planted everywhere I used to live (that someone else is harvesting now),
the books I read and passed on to other readers.
The children I raised, and set free.
The person I was.