Benita Loff

First flings are funny but the
day it ends is not.
Of(f) mountain edges we want to
spring, but cling ferociously to
I: I will, I won’t, I want him, I don’t
keep racing through our
thinking – and then our hearts make a turn
about and around – dancing our souls out of
the doldrums which had us mourning the
end – and now we can smell the softness
of spring and say farewell to
Autumn.

Personally speaking …


First flings are funny but the
day it ends is not.
Of-f mountain edges I want to
spring, but cling ferociously to
I: I will, I won’t, I want him, I don’t
keep racing through my
thinking – and then my heart makes a turn
about and around – dancing my soul out of
the doldrums which had me mourning the
end – and now I can smell the softness
of spring and say farewell to
autumn.

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