Did I Ever See Her Again


I see my old street…

I see how it shines.

Those days or red roses and proffered wine.

Moments in an adolescent’s grasp that withstand time.

Around the corner,

and up to the gates of Stone park.

She left

chocolate covered fingerprints upon my heart.

She spoke of things I did not understand.

In youth,

I stuck to the matters at hand.

Did I ever see her again?

No.

No, and wishing would not make it so.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.