Poetry on Wings

Alan and I having fun with Mark and Candy at Glacier National Park, MT in 2008

Lost Not

Night
Slips between
The pillows
To mingle
Softly into scenes
So easily forgot.
These memories
Still seek to be
The thoughts
Of me…

Day
Dreams come,
Strung on thread
Like beads,
Hoping to be more
Than just dreams
Of how it was,
How it can be.
Their beauty is in
The matrix
Of you, of me.

Night
Holds tight
To the quiet.
So hush,
Make out
The lights.
Hold on to
The moment
That cannot
Last.

Incredible…
We have!