September 24, 2017 at 3:02 pm Leave a comment


we’d not expected or desired
to ever meet again, when
we startled one another
in that lonely woods.

(spring dying to summer, green yielding to gold,
poison oak crimsoned…)

perhaps it shouldn’t be surprising to realize we tried
to recapture what never was. after all,
we’d made the same mistake before.


Yes, they’re somewhat related, but not about the same person.

Entry filed under: poetry, social psychology, voices. Tags: , .

mistakes The Walled City

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Trackback this post  |  Subscribe to the comments via RSS Feed

%d bloggers like this: