The water dances here below the old abandoned mill; I know I've got a task to do, but I don't think I will. It isn't that I do not care, or that I'm big on shirking: It's just that that there's a presence here that rejects overworking
one more one more bathing beauty one less blasted call to duty one time two times meretricious salted caramel delicious one way street no room for turning hit the beach they're soon adjourning once we were to truth attending one more one more day pretending
The day is draped in gray; Around me moves the swirling mist Of everything that has been, or will be. I stand here, looking up, Not fully knowing why my chest Seems so filled up with sadness. I’m resigned To what my part, my role is, now, I guess: For even clouds have shadows, Moving … Continue reading "Elegy Written in an Empty Field"
Daily, everywhere, I see Things no longer yet to be; Signs of what’s forever “after”, Moving swing, and children’s laughter Daily, everywhere, I find In my heart, and on my mind, Pictures left of what was leaving: Joy remembered, Present Grieving
“A battlefield this was” Is likely true Most everywhere we go If we just knew. But history, at least What we discuss Or think about, must Somehow concern us. But empathy, perspective – These can grow – Just know to think ‘Bout what you think You know