Tumbling through files,
And things long unread –
Some neat, clean, immaculate;
Far more messy scribbles on torn pages.
But no matter.
-I can still read them,
Those ancient musings
As though from another time.
Was that me?
What was I thinking?
A stranger stares out from old words,
The resemblance long lost in the years.
A wonder, suddenly.
At the beauty that is forgetting,
And discovering again.

Your comment will be posted after it is approved.

Leave a Reply.