Hatred

I hate that.
Of course, that...
all-encompassing word
such as it is...
varies from time
and place

Cars pulling out
when the road is clear
to the horizon behind you,

Shopping carts,
laden with a week's worth
of clipped coupon savings,
pushed into the
express lane.

Words and phrases
that dance their way
through my brain,
or over my tongue,
but never seem to make it
beyond my fingertips
and to page or screen.

Memories of events...
special times and people...
who the very thought of
makes the throat ache
and the eyes water,
dimming down to nothing
but emotional
reflexes

I hate that.