i don’t talk about you much
egos feed and fed
i suppose i could say what i see
the full
the stretch of you
i smile for what could only be
a crumbled pace;
you never heard me stop the sighs
begin anew
(to offer grace)
as summer peaches drip
on sidewalks splotched with gum
hard stone
the trammeled few …
i hold myself the harder still
and find reflections
in your understanding
Not sure for whom this was written (would guess your dad but would probably be wrong), or even what it means, but I kinda like it. And I can’t even say “why” I like it, really…just that it speaks to me of a better inner nature than so many I have observed.
maybe it’s hard for me to respect the innards of anyone, so when i do it’s real …..life is such a combination of fleeting moments.