Stranger Me’s

Hung head, hands in my pockets

Brisky summer mornings

Silence isn’t always golden

The grey fog rolls in heavy and soft

As a beacon’s light glows

Under a tenebrous atmosphere  

And I walk along- alone

My footprints drown some  

Shadows and wakes collide

Hard-to-swallow waves break

I can feel it all in my bones

Knowing you the way I do

Remains the only reason I still hang on

Yet, I get lost- sometimes…in-between us


Poet of the Light © 2022


4 thoughts on “Stranger Me’s

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