NICKED
A small stone, something,
struck my windshield
causing a nick in the glass.
Now It’s there in front of me
every time I drive,
unless I get it fixed.
At times there are stones
thrown at me by those I love -
nicking me - making me wince.
They hit me in how I see -
how I am - these people who
are always in front of me. Ugh.
© Andy Costello,
Reflections 2018
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