Time passes
a barnacle
in the mind
a heart
without eyes
has no sense
of time
The wind
the rain
a mirror’s reflection
on a face
years of playing
in summer winds
and winter storms
a heart still sings
youth filled
tunes
the legs
the feet
no longer
move in tempo
reminiscing upon
memories
that fill the glass
with spring water
of youth
This poem flows so lyrically, like a song. I love the second stanza!
ReplyDeleteA heart without eyes has no sense of time...
ReplyDeleteLove that line!
I agree with Timoteo. I hope that all is well with you, Nene.
ReplyDeleteWell is a relative term. I'm content until I recently read a few of your pieces and then I became envious. Envious of your talent. But thanks for making contact.
ReplyDelete