I long

Speckles and gatherings of days too old,

Like patches of tiny white clouds,

Thoughts far as the ends of the blue sky,

Of promising possibilities ahead of us,

Days of too much play,

And cry,

Quiet moments lost in tempo,

Days of moulding,

And surfaces of grey clay,

Of muddy evenings,

And mother’s cane,

Nights of peaceful light snores,

And single tossing by dawn,

They linger on the broken toys in our backyard,

I long, I long,

But they nolonger belong.

3 thoughts on “I long

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