It’s the things
that I held
once so dear
slipping through fingers
sand and water
I can’t keep
the thing I
thought I was
isn’t a thing
anymore they’ve moved
without leaving me
a forwarding address
what am I
supposed to do
with this stuff
am I stuck
should I go
Category: Meditation
Back
A tune familiar
taking me back
further than thought
I can feel
the rain and
smell the Seine
through deep fog
you standing atop
the bridge waiting
amidst the mist
that one moonless
night in Paris
Lazy
Lazy day
kinda hazy
daisy day
the kind
for flowers
pick and
pluck prune
and preen
finally seen
before the
mower goes
wild tomorrow
Found
Peek a boo
you know who
is peeking around
the corner or
from behind trees
I thought shadow
or someone shady
it was me
watching and waiting
to be found
seen and heard
Lover
A lover
of words
I write
not because
of reason
or future
or fame
but because
of fate
and the
faithfulness of
true purpose
and destiny
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 