© 2018  Kelsey Cronin


    August 24, 2018

    All the page corners you folded

    All the little wonders you showed me


    Sterile halls and careless over-sedation

    Eyes glazed from too much medication


    Peace in the mystery

    and the litany of history


    Gentle blue eyes and the wildfire in your mind

    Healing wounds that are itchy and poems that almost rhyme


    The depths of something I'll never understand

    More than you can hold in your own two hands


    The moving line where water meets shore

    And when you can't remember what you came into the room for


    All these

    so many more


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