Tags
In small bits and pieces,
the wake trails —
a bit of flesh, a heartbeat,
a bit of mind, of memory,
those moments
so carefully gathered up,
gaining distance behind.
Flesh of my flesh,
heart of my heart,
mind of my mind,
hand of my hands,
noise of my noise,
song of my song,
I let them go.
You find your way
in a world without me,
and I let go.
I’m in love with this part of the second stanza:
“mind of my mind,
hand of my hands,
noise of my noise,
song of my song,”
LikeLike
Thank you!
LikeLike
You’re welcome!
LikeLike
You’ve created a beautifully reflective mood…the repetition is so effective in the second stanza, evoking (for me) the sacred and biblical. “gaining distance behind”–love this line.
LikeLike