LIVING
11th.november.2015
Turn over that book that she gave you
turn it over in your dreams, title blurred by time
but the mind tries to recall
word by word, name by name
inscription left with her kiss
thoughts turn to the front yard
lounge chair wet with rain
wet with heaviness of darkness
that has come,
mist and clouds mix
an afterthought you note
on a piece of paper you call a diary,
living is this
brief passing of memories
some remembered
others prickly little nagging things
telling you, asking you
for illumination to bring them back to life…
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