All Our Yesterdays
Poem
Poem
I see the child that once was me
I’d long since cast aside,
whose subtle way escaped my eye
until time had made it clear.
I look behind
to yesterday’s dark dampened days.
Returning pieces of my heart I’d lost,
gone now,
like the exhalation of the wind.
Grasping for the grains of sentiment, sometimes left,
are weathered palms
deeply etched with every season past.
Sunlight ceased to enter here
long ago.
Strange comfort comes
from the pain we hold,
amid a time of long discord
when days are dreary bent.
Injecting a symphony
between life’s spaces,
as tangible as wisps of smoke,
is the secretive soul
hidden in our eyes.
The ambiance of ages passed
beseech me not to leave,
nor touch the places of the heart
that lie unstirred by weary minds.
Though my anger burns,
my calm will remain.
Now all is dim,
it matters not.