Unkempt Moments
Not sure how it happens
But love can get a bit disheveled
Unkempt moments, untidy interactions.
Perhaps it becomes like an old flannel shirt
Worn, wrinkled, frayed at the collar
Yet still so comfortable
We overlook its appearance.
Remember when her eyes….
Those faded blue orbs
Swallowed your every thought
Eased your very soul
Calmed your apprehension?
Go, stand again on the edge
Gaze into them anew
Whisper cross time’s worn flannel
Those worn, wrinkled and frayed words
Of love’s disheveled longings.
John G. Lawless
©11/22/2022
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