Most of my life, sooner or later

I’d find myself in the wake(s)

Of undesirable laced reality  

Or unfinished conversations

Memories of a few yesterdays   

And captivating connections  

Loss of significant loved ones

Odd misunderstood solitudes

Smokey wisps of my daydreams

Meaningless riverside strolls

Shadow seat under a lone tree

Bodily warmth of misspent love    

When I was still young- believing  

Life would forever taste… sweet


Poet of the Light © 2023


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