Memory

 A FREE-VERSE POEM

Witches in the moonlight burned In the near-Autumn gesture Of the morning tide above the wheel-rimmed Glasses I wore, not to church, But to the last day of …

And the enlightened bowl of money Given to me on the day I saw A man walk the dark streets in the moonlight Again, above, like Deja-vu, I tried to see clearly.

My gentle mind met me on a Saturday to waltz like Children on glittered banks or thrones I can’t remember.

✴✴✴

Join Our Newsletter

For stories, poems, and exclusive content you won't get anywhere else!  (Mailed 1x or 2x a month)

We value your privacy.  You can unsubscribe anytime. 

Thank you!

You have successfully joined our subscriber list.