Saturday, November 12, 2011


I’ve been stuffing my cranium
Six decades plus with
The knowledge and wisdom
Of memory’s keep.
So often my mind wants
To burst at the seams,
Yet always finds room
For the new and unique.

Dreams of my youth
May have vanished in vapors
Or merely transitioned
To fit circumstance,
As whispers of time
Cried out new direction
And chance took my hand
And bade me to dance.

Whatever the course, I pray
Let it continue to
Grow and spread light
So that others might see.
And when Fate finally calls
I’ll leave something behind,
If only a wrinkle
In their memory. 

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