Saturday, August 29, 2020

One hundred seasons

 Near one hundred seasons are gone

As if in a breath

The mantel clock

Meticulously ticked every second while

Me, too distracted to notice

I look in the mirror, a thousand faces later

I wear the one much worse for wear

You as well. Still I’ve seen inside you

Where the real beauty is

 

Memories get scrumbled in the brain

We shouldn’t trust them

But we hold them tight

Like our first teddy bear

Or like Mother as she passes over

Because that’s all we have

 

No, but that’s a lie

We have a lake of feelings

That we dammed up

And let out just a few tears at a time

And quickly wiped away

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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