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