Memories scatter and fade
as time passes on.
Long kisses good-bye
are never felt again.
A night of misery
awakens to a new morning.
The first chill of the cold season
travels through my spine.

Long drives through the country
were scores of miles.
Letters written, never sent,
never bothered to return.
Home was lived in
while shadows were stagnant.
I’ll follow neighbor’s footprints
as the sun painlessly melts the snow.

Slow afternoon traffic
on the highways of the forgotten.
Memories begin passing
as time slowly fades along.
Thoughts come to conclusions
only realized after a blur.
Yesterday is gone
but it is remembered.

Not as much can be said
for forgiveness.
It has it’s own rhythm.
We all hoe our gardens
in our own time.

10/9/97