Time is a River

fingers drift

into still river

of memory

so treacherous

so deep

long to touch

young woman

i used to be

warm themselves

in the fire i blazed with

i will concede these women

may be more alike than not

this heavy ache of longing

that compresses  chest

leaves metallic taste in the back of throat

brings unwelcome saline sting to eyes

is so damn familiar

rings with timeless truth

perhaps it is only

the road ahead

that is so very altered

 

© 2018 Christine Elizabeth Ray – All rights Reserved

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