
I sense her silent audience now and then
Like the manner, one senses a shadow
Ever present, yet resolved to its elusiveness
Especial when I’m set away to myself
Where I meander betwixt life and memories
My inner dams hold back sorrow, mostly
Still, I’m innately beset to always wonder
What she might say to me today or tomorrow
That’s the thing about silence and solitude
You tend to steep in the surrounding silence
Today was better than my last lot of them
However not as great as my best days gone
I also wonder if I ever lived up to the image
She saw me as, cause I’ve always… intended to
.
Poet of the Light © 2022