The day now split
drifts off unpromised,
the dream remains with me
Our words as jewels
now treasured pawn,
their tickets burning free
The nights by measure
mornings fled,
those times you woke and lied
My heart remains
my own to wed,
your wound still deep inside
From spells you cast
upon our gift,
and quarried into stone
The past is black,
the future gone,
—this present mine to own
(Villanova Pennsylvania: January, 2017)
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Author:
Kurt Philip Behm (
Offline) - Published: January 9th, 2017 09:52
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 22
Offline)
Comments2
Great write
Thanks so much, Tony!
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