In reference to another life, I heard that, IT would always be something.
A hiccup, a laugh…
or, poorly chosen path.
A manner for chaos to collide.
And, my body, tossed to one side.
Could the specter have been…
a Caroler or poet?
To this day, I am really not sure which.
But deep in the rosy flower of my heart.
A road appears sunlit.
Whilst the foliage be stark.