Forgetting Life
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The wind confides its loneliness,
Whispering cold to each naked cheek.
A measuring spoon of stillness against
Each sound we swallow.
Nary a force in the universe can bring back
A lost thought. Life’s flame bending softly to
The touch of every thoughtful, thoughtless breeze.
Like the first snow we cling to every passing moment.
Warily, one by one, as the weeks roll heavy onward,
Like ripples on the water, footprints in the snow,
Or the fainter sound of a drum that beats
Inside the heart of us all
Copyright © Vernon Witmer | Year Posted 2021
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