This week I have been so fortunate to read stunning work by outstanding writers. Chris Nelson deals a fatal blow to my composure with this gracefully eloquent blade.
We came here so
Many years ago,
Chasing the ruffled edges
Of a crumpled photograph
Its monochrome hues whispering
Hushed voices still echoing
From white-edged border to faded frame,
Days stilled by wishful perception
Of contentment borne on wings
Which hung like the slow-mouthed moon
Captured by the eye but slipping ever
Between the fingers that reached out
Lost like the hopeful,
And frozen images caught our eye
Like souls entrapped –
And did we know that ours would follow?
Or was it all a dream
The promise that we shared
With a belief in something better?
And we’ll meet again one day
When all the pictures have faded
And all our dreams have died,
We’ll visit them at night
And walk along the rows
Of all we never knew
And ponder why we came
And shred ourselves on all we ever lost.
© All original writing copyright Chris Nelson…
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