Wednesday, March 4, 2015

On lovers

We remember them, those feckless lovers,
As time telescopes, and black night covers
The vestiges of plans we thought supreme.
The answer that we seek, the truth we want,
Resides in darkling memories that taunt;
Those carefree, feckless days are just a dream.
In youth, our lives play like an endless feast,
Until it's finished, and the fun has ceased.

1 comment:

  1. This put me in mind of something I wrote a while back, Marc:

    Old photos give a wink
    And a nod
    At the lies living loud
    In everyone's eyes.