Yesterday’s blurred images
Appear, but they quiver,
Disappear, metamorphosing,
From clear, to painful narrow.
Life itself becomes a shadow
Less perceptive in the dark,
Shadows, memories that
With us travel,
Things we did and so enjoyed,
Childhoods, full of hope,
In excitement for tomorrow.
But, we live and realize
That life is only,
Time borrowed,
Bitter sweetness that arrives
Time that flows, creating shadows
That our lives are not our own
And as years accumulate
We, cannot escape our fate
All we do is navigate,
In a sea of mixed up shadows.