My friends predicted what did not occur.
“You never know,” they promised, but I did.
No urge to drive or shop arose to stir
my energy, and as for being rid
of one who should have sheltered and endorsed,
and comforted and guided me with care,
I no more miss her presence than divorced-
after-abuse folks loathe the empty air.
Oh, I’ll admit that now and then a twinge
of absence will beset my solitude.
But no regret or elegies impinge,
and nothing in my memory is rued.
I learn how strong was criticism’s keep.
The drop in negativity is deep.
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