by John Riley
When old of age and looking into the glass and see but a little of what I was, and know that ahead in time and season would if I could make the world a little younger.
For I shall not have walked alone in reflective mind and taken that path of rock and stone.
Hello again, that we meet on a day of such brightness that without conversation without announcement, I know of your spectral presence.
For in this morn of spring, the awakening of dawn, I, bound, with the bleakness of a winter’s season, searching for shelter, that I might find but one moment.
Would it be better to have given another, who could have lived and expressed love in ways I denied? For why not have set me with a heart of ice than a heart that feels and knows pain. Better that, I not feel a life of loneliness.
That I wander through this life as a phantom existing beyond your threshold. That we at times might see of one another and brought close to know one another. Yet the truth remains, we are but long seasons apart and you destined to love another.
A familiar refrain that I greet you, the darkness, and talk with you again.
-end-
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