Late Evening Pilsner

Under wounded light
I go back in time.
Pushing up doubts
Like bottle corks,
Worming to the point,
Knowing not what I seek,
I cross the bridge I am building to who-knows-where.

The past parades around the present
As I stand with eyes downcast,
Forgetting to look to the trees,
Where freedom flows like raindrops,
And the answer awaits like the sea.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2016

Poem

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