#3

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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© 2018  Kelsey Cronin