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