Sunday, June 2, 2013

Its not often

its not often that we connect
and before long it seems we drift
on the wings of happenstance
forgiving our transgressions

where does it take us 
and where have we been
through the evolving perspective of change

slipping through changing landscapes
expecting to see what we have before
around the unexpected corner
unfamiliar barrios with shops that open and close
unrecognizable people who age, grow old and die

threads of attachment run through memories of what has been
threads as strong as thin wire
cutting through hands that desperately grasp

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