candlesticks

she’s wasted the years, she thinks
my children are grown and i am old
what have i done with my time
and why didn’t i spend it with them

she wanders the streets searching
for wooden dolls that remind her
of summers on the beach and the wind
on her face as she sat on the balcony

when the children were still young
and playing in the sand with small hands
the wind, she thinks, she can close
her eyes and still feel it on her face

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About ky

Poet. Photographer. Writer. Goddess. View all posts by ky

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