Wednesday, November 16

The second half

My eyes
can see
images written in time
getting blurry.

Words fail me
as I write again.

I miss the sea.
I miss many things.

My past has become
glorious
in my present.

Let it grow white
let it get washed
away
by those very waves,
waterless waves,
that filled up my present
in the past.
let it get bleached out
in an all consuming white.

And then
I will
fade out
too.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

If my was would be an is,
And Not waiting for a will be


Or if at last the time would come,
When later is now & here.

ether said...

I don't think I understood much of that, Z. Perhaps you could elucidate?

The Wandering Hermit said...

Was (The Past)... IS (The Present)... A Will BE (The future)... or the Good Bad & Ugly as I refer to my own past, present and future

cheers
z