AN OLD FRIEND

SENT IN BY temejos385@ddlre.com

Lost upon the waves of bygone memories
I look back at the white horses of grief crashing in my wake.
Without a sail or a direction I drift on aimlessly.
I may turn around and face the waves past,
each splash of saltwater stinging my eyes.
Slowly I shall return to land
but now I’d rather the sting to remember
than to move on without you.

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