8-11-15

what is worth a summer’s days

the wind blows to collect the fragments

our old sun has left over

and when it does come to past

the memories

we treasure and hate

It sits with you

The neighbor’s wind chime rings

do you remember who you were

a year ago?

If I were to touch the sky

Surely I’d only find only

the cracked globe covering us

a fragile glass

stale

unrelenting

and burning us with shame

The days never do get easier