These days past, in furrowed remembrance,
lay distant like bereft fields of winter.
Memories patched and flattened into stories
told by the remaining few, alone in their recollections
of that warm fall or that wet spring.
Fogged sentiments dance off rough snow fields,
obscuring the horizon, deposing details of history
with scenic memoirs of a greener time.
March 2007 – August 2018
WandeRoseD 