Spring is finally in the air

Though not for some

Like tired fence post sitting about

Mired in their own mindsets

Weathered surfaces drying out

Spidery fissures propagate daily

Half-closed eyes weep in the winds

Perceptions cloudier than the skylines

As doubts sprinkle in their heads

And slower tiny steps- to and fro- gaits       

Their bodies labor heavier than their thoughts

If their minds don’t wander them off   

To days they’ve outgrown long ago

When they were young… and living bold


Poet of the Light © 2023


3 thoughts on “Reservations

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