Posted in [poetry], [witchcraft & wonder]

the past [poem]

I dwell on the past
a lot
on the whitewashed walls of
borrowed homes
my rootless childhood with transient friends
and the chance to experience life’s spectrum
between the temporary pit stops called
I remember the taste of
summer huckleberries and
the smell of rotted autumn leaves and
the gurgling little creek and
the feel of sand between my toes
and I wonder what I’d be if
none of it ever happened
life a giant question
what if?


bookdragon, poet, witch

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