As I view anew writings from the past

penned by myself through lace of years

I look into the mirror of my collected words

and find time births an array of fullness.


Each fresh visit whispers of impending chill

nudges gathering of fuel stoked by caring

honors connections, rustles into being

my own story to ward off desolation.


My many selves endowed with emotions

transcribed through flow of visible ink 

may be viewed as written in pure blood

recently drawn from vibrant veins.


There is comfort in recollections

announcing family and friendships

times of love and the energy of conflict

amid the arrival of unexpected grace.


The art of nestling into new born space

triggered by scents, sounds, words

placed in memory to note collected lore

eases awaiting waves of loneliness.


Muse 05.21.20

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