Revisiting
Unearthing blind roots, cyclic thoughts
spin round again
as if they had just come to me,
and had not been arriving forever.
Abandoned living-spaces excavated
from under the forgotten foundations
of elsewhere.
Places we leave our sweat in,
litter that never goes away,
stuff in pockets that once belonged
to a best jacket.
A best life thus far – but when?
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2021
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment