A fitting end for a tear-filled year,
a blue of spotless bright reflecting peace,
the lake in distant view a tranquil calm,
and thoughts of you like waves recede.
Brisk, I paced away from coastal winds,
whose frigid air gripped jacket tightly;
for all the quiet solemn walks provide,
a memory churned can more than match.
Tomorrow’s tide will still feel cold,
the lips as chapped from brine and breeze,
yet there is peace in waves again
as thoughts of you with tides recede.
“I’m erasing myself from the narrative…”
Numbers of a fate to change,
the price of vice exacted —
Numbers left in our own hands
to mend as we see fit.
But numbers bring no fixes,
nor joys that outlast victories,
if digits shift to only please
when viewed peripherally.
11 days to get started before another year of goal-setting. Let’s do this.
No blame for stories past
rehearsed from fear erasing,
that painful to recall as were,
and sadder in forgetting;
No further anguish to remind
as memoirs blur with dates,
nor actions selfish to demand
a selfless, willing, in its place.
“The contract was met.”
Its blue has long since aged,
and edges worn and frayed,
but still this long-sleeved gift
accommodates my frame;
For I lived poorer yesterday,
when glamor cost too much,
but kindness found its way
and delivered me sweet love;
And soon, if luck’s my lot,
a graceful hue will bless another,
for mine, though faded blue,
had made me all the richer.
Been a while. Take all the inspiration and momentum and make the most of the remaining days in 2016. Not throwing away my shot, right?