To Anna
If the past were but a game
To shift in place some pawn
Never would I leave the same
Those years now so gone
Perhaps this game would allow
For just beginning it anew
Starting it again somehow
And then me knowing you
Where silver lakes in springtime
Reflect the welcome sun
Though a foreign land not mine
But the place I too begun
By misfortune of chaste despair
Where time refused to wait
I passed my life not living there
And meeting you too late
Copyright © Richard Karr | Year Posted 2012
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