Memories of a Man
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I cannot brush away tiny grains of sand
as the waves can reclaim them for the sea,
nor sweep clean my memories of a man,
as if love we had was not meant to be.
A mystery it is to those who are
questioning the moon for ruling the tide.
After years of passion, now a tug of war.
His spoils of battle are tears I can't hide.
In weak moments, I drift in reveries
of walks on this beach, of holding his hand,
time spent in laughter; loving memories.
He threw us away, I don't understand.
Footsteps leave prints, washed out by ebb and flow.
I cry in vain, caught in love's undertow.
Copyright © Lin Lane | Year Posted 2016
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