We took a walk together, a cool spring

would flow the night’s waves

lapping upon the evening shoreline

soothing our mind as if to suggest a pause.

An appreciation of stars aligning the sky

we might look forever not mattering

such is the cosmic phenomena

sweet, out of reach yet a dangle

of the mind, handling in the balance,

always guiding our soul so mellow to follow

our heart and know it might surely

belong in one another’s waiting arms.

There lay before us a stream would release

all the moments of indecision with only peace.

© Thom Amundsen 4/3/2021

When in A Moment

I could take a walk alone,

through the city streets,

without even a thought,

just settling on the old oaks,

cracked cobblestone, with years

of lives exploring the same ideas,

how to get from here to there,

comfortable, peace, beautiful

a brisk winter air always reminds me

of a nostalgic walk so near …

a memory.

Streams In the Cities

We walk

talk a lot

one time our world’s collided

like a fork in the river

suddenly our mood changed

the current came to life

playing the rocks like a treacherous


we were falling too

trying to grasp the moment

catch an inlet and pool up our thoughts.

Silent interactions

the day became sad

clouded by murky, kicked up sand

sidewalk misery seemed

we had no where to go

I remember feeling like our world was reaching the crest, the dam

the locks were tight

without any open water holding our bodies

in limbo

just those rough currents

afraid to look each other in the eye.

We were in our natural gait

self-driven pity

creating streams in the cities.

Only the Soft Melody

Funny how a day can be shaped

by keystrokes and a romantic tune.

Reminds me gently

of soft rains and mellow eyes,

sharing time like forever.

Hoping to always continue journeys

I do relish the nostalgia

of our walks,

holding hands,

caressing your forehead – reaching fingertips …

Tracing your elegant persona,

Manners while you smiled in the autumn sunlight.

I can be right by your side imagining

sunrises with your shoulders a resting place

for my open windows.

More traces and shadowed walks

arousing a spiritual drive

that nowhere is ever defined until …

When it is no longer with my soul

sadness then prevails;

While aging entertains

our lives with revenue of little value,

we are a simple lot with caveat regard

for our Grace, guidance.

Do you remember?