June 17, 2014

Nostalgia Marches On

curved highways crisscross our paths
jagged cliffs teeter
us on the brink
byways merge
lanes converge
long distance severed, worn with age
time stands still

only for the youth, time flies away
old is worn, burnished as brass
locking in time, in dreams, in memories, in clouds with feathery wings of birds
long lost, long gone, locked in a revery, a dirge, a song
pain seeks revenge, masking space between age and grace
allotting increments of fashioned jokes and laughter
marching on to someone else’s beat, hoping again to meet

anger slammed against my heart
meant to hurt, as only you knew
expectations shimmered in dark pools
no end, no horizons, no jury
numb, as the tide is sure to ebb
as sure as a snowflake melts
as sure and the sunrises and sets

as winter turns to spring
as spring turns to summer
as summer turns to fall

as falling leaves die, blowing in the wind
across narrows, across divides
then, standing still, a hush, a silence
falling, falling, falling
waiting, waiting, waiting
someone comes along, sweeping up dried broken hearts

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