It is supposed to be easy, this life.

They have written books about it,

again the suggestive nature of an unknown

entity.

Oh mother,

forgive my sweet ignorance,

while traveling some new unforgotten

passion.

The way that is our lives

were lost in the moment of reckoning

will become

a name.

Yet now is it likely we are to feel the

outlandish

nature of grief,

when miles before

at the local saloon

we made jest of the easier road

we might easily choose.

Careful that the reality we live

is the only place

where we can ever find

solace

as it were naturally

meant to imply in our lives.

For it is in the mist of this pain,

await the luxury of time.

---

©️ Thom Amundsen 2019