If you were to cross the road and hurt your toe, I know that I will never know. As we go on to take different roads and move on across different shores, there is something that happens to our relationships. Something that estranges, disconnects, disintegrates. I know that you still think of me. I know this because I find myself thinking about you. And thoughts rarely get seeded on their own. It comes from you to I and from I to you until one of us is alive. Old relationships rarely die. Like broken winged moths, they hang around dark alleys of forgotten memory lanes. Ever so often, I can hear one of them flutter its wings. Not too close but never too far.
Beautiful description of a season of life I can relate to having experienced (at least, from what I have gained through reading this). Thank you for sharing your poetry. It was a pleasure to read!
ReplyDeleteSometimes I think it would be easier getting to the forever part of life without having to deal with the stresses of the world... I guess we wouldn't grow without those challenges though :)
ReplyDeleteI feel the angst here. Oh for light, yes!
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