Life. Nothing is simple. One is alive,
breathing,eating living.Each day apart
separate alone;and yet not quite;
part of another, blood smeared,by
genes linked,chain by chain in
generation's pattern of lives past.
We wait and wait in line repeating
mistakes, treading the same circle.
imagining progress is reality.These
imaginary musings, experiences past
& present linger long, dusted off, re-opened,
in retrospective perspective changes all.
Maturity's squints aghast, then savours
the mellowness of memory where today
will be yesterday, gathering dust,
Copyright © Brian Strand