A picture speaks a truth.
~
I danced alone happy,
the first time I could.
~
A conversation
a put down
a clarity of purpose
a scant reminder
~
A why do we do this
sort of thing
moment
that allows our lives
to become enthralled
by the ones that do.
~
A reckoning
when time slows
enough to wonder
about how simple
a decision
might be well after
consequence:
inherent trepidation.
~
A summer night
stars are out,
a full moon waning
sheds a sorrowful tear
on a quiet reality,
while we all enter
a continuum
that part of our lives
we could never …
but we did.
~
Another time
we revisit in hope
we might settle
a difference that
when recalled
did help us focus
on why we
hate reminders
~
Would we ever
again be able,
could we possibly
understand
just how far
we did stray.
~
A friend once said
they wished the world
could get along
without a fight.
~
We yelled each other’s name,
never did we speak again.
~
We didn’t try to look outside.
Lovely measured moments woven in a silken line of contemplation. .. I’m oft reminded why I love poetry through YOUR words Thom.
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Oh you are so kind always – I had a lot of fun writing this. 🙂
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