These mauve memories
hibernate in my mind
like those hand-painted lilac shoes
you gave me two years ago I loved
but forgot about,
until I'm cleaning and find them in mid-January
and decide to wear them one last time before I throw them out;
except these mallow memories can never be thrown out,
but can only be forgotten
and found once again
one day in every winter
blooming in groves against the deep frigid snow.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
catalog of august 2020
Unemployed, depressed(?) heat wave dehydrated Dreams from My Father birds d&d anxiety geri getting us a light cover front neighbors guy...
-
note: i wrote this before i saw your latest post entitled 'truths.' But reading it gave me the confidence to post this. it's ...
-
At the moment, I feel like a loser. Well, today I woke up feeling like a loser. Since then, things have improved--slightly. But I still feel...
-
A Process As I age, my interests broaden. When I was a kid, I focused on myself. My thoughts were mainly about me, concerned only for m...
No comments:
Post a Comment