I found a castle
it was made of paper
names of old lovers
inscribed in folds
deaths of dreams floated
in black ink
I found a promise
a silver one
buried beneath a Willow tree
disappointment left it
forsaken by its owner
now lying in a ceramic dish
on the dresser
I found a life
an older one
on a bench by the
waters edge
His eyes are clouded
by old Chevrolets
and a love he called Grace
but the truth is the only
grace he has now is memory
We put things in places
someone else comes along
and finds
even if we don't want them to
No comments:
Post a Comment