Nauita Tempus
Our past is never
where its left,
the tide always returns
Those things unsaid
not put to bed,
like butter still unchurned
Returning once
returning twice,
its power built on fear
To undermine
those things adrift
—till anchored yesteryear
(The New Room: March, 2022)
Copyright © Kurt Philip Behm | Year Posted 2022
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