I've been lost in some other time—
found a Victorian baby's ring to fit my tiniest finger.
I'm not sure how I left behind the things I did:
the cherry-blossom citadel in the mountains;
the city on dark waters;
the shining field where my heart still lives.
Why all this yearning? Why not turn forward, to feel the future forming?
But I want what I thought I knew; what I left; who I was.
Even though at that time
Nothing was good enough.
1 comment:
very nice..
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