We walk in sand
secure that the tide
will wash away our epigraph
of inconsistency,
The little faux pas
the stumbles
that haunt us
the touch
that strays
too close to the soul
We trace our love letters
on drifting leaves
place them in bottles
that get lost in the sea
of ambiguity
We avoid the garden path
for the undergrowth
dark and dense
We leave
no footprints
Still,
there are scars.
Such an elegant blog……liked the way you ended the journey in this poem…..
Lovely, lovely. As always, I love the structured flow of your verse, the sparce but precise choice of words, the subtly of meaning…
“We leave
no footprints
Still,
there are scars.”
Lovely.
thanks Neel and Bardess,
would love to have you join in our interactive discussions
http://thepeacefulpub.yuku.com/directory