The present's caught in droplet of the amber
of rising sun that's piercing air
almost crystalised.
Motes of reality, for second trapped in time -
reminders
of distant past, of smiles
that other morning lightened on our faces
and that had made us for a moment blind.
And now this honey-looking sunlight
brings tears to my eyes
for I can not run from the memories
which, like small amber stones with butterflies,
are cluttering inside.
memories
© Copyright: Донни Маклеод, 2014
Свидетельство о публикации №114070305318
Свидетельство о публикации №114070305318
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