First Name Only

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Young Sarah
Among the seasoned helpless
Seeking solace
From the circuitous path
That is a family in addiction
There is no anyong
As she shares
A story too sad not to be true
Most are silent
Eyes cast downward
No advice is offered
No cure is proffered
Only a circled prayer recited
With a hug until we gather again

About justbrinkley

poetry, flash fiction, prompts from a southern granny who should have been a writer.
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