Empty Circles
I circle the familiar oak, though no more do I recognize the landscape
I search longingly for any semblance of memories cross the expanse
Darkness meant to protect erodes, the land cannot hold its branded shape
It's changed again. Crumbling structures and consuming sinkholes advance
I speak into the void, demanding audience with my past, begging for a glimpse kind
But I hear only a cautioning silence, forced to wonder the cul-de-sac of my mind
02/01/2023
Prompt: cul-de-sac
Copyright © FJ Thomas | Year Posted 2023
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