Tripping down memory lane, not wanting to remember the
abandonment of a friend.
Secluding myself from ever being hurt so badly again.
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Riding through the dusk, singing to nature as I pass through forests of pine trees on horseback.
All of them living now in poems that I have written.
Strangely, keeping beats and tempos with a froggy sort of voice,
Easily taking my heart and mind down memory lane, picturingyesterday’s visions in beautiful sounding melodies, taking overand singly giving a memory settled in timeless energy ofanother phase of maturity.Alone, in senior living itself, giving pleasure in harmonies of expression.
Clasping hearts, held in sorrow of life’s passing, creating changes in each, no longer being the same people.
In time, maybe, but how long it will take is anyone’s guess.Purposeful loneliness standing stead until we once again can communicate on a level of trust.
Forsaken pictures and images being left alone on doorsteps to future relapses of loneliness.
Signaling brain cells to picture thoughts in alignment with selective decisions, adding comments as they arise in whispered conversations, and held quietly in intelligent minds.
Only having had two experiences with a young nurse and an older one.
Ignoring specific simple needs of a patient, causing a rasping feeling towards the nurses who seem not to care at this particular moment.Moving on as the shifts change, forgetting the nurse who didn’t care how I felt and let me know about it.
Waltzing throughout my mind,
memories along the way.Solitary feelings pulling me intothe catacombs of yesterday,wanting me to remember how thingswere back then.Bountifully raking in the spirits,fulfilling the emptiness with anamazing amount of fruitful literaldefinitions in poetry.