journal · poetry

Passing Past

Moments collide
with the current of time
and I watch them pass me by.
I’m leaving this behind
but I’ll always carry it with me.
A memory of the less mundane,
the intriguing.
It fascinated me
until I was blind
mad with love
and contrition alike.
My two-step
with the wrong and right
in life.
I write
to forget this
but remember
that forever is never
and never is now.
This is how it always was
and will be.
There is solidity in the reality
of sorting out truth from lie
of detaching fact from fiction
sad from fine
yours from mine.
It only took one line
to set me free.
My thanks, young friend
for the artlessly candid veracity.
Now I understand that backward
although wistfully divine
was never mine
so never mind.
I’ll set it aside,
and watch you walk right by
So that I don’t
get swept away
this time.
But it might happen anyway.


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