gently go forward, then gently back
recreating past deeds and misdemenours
you thought forgotten.
gently go forward knowing we are mostly
all the same, with motes not spoken of,
except disorder.
gently it passed behind you, seen
clearly while looking for god.
gently gather winter leaves to keep
in paper bags. these are the golden
days .
my friend.
sbm.
2013/14
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/photo-challenges/anticipation/
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Reblogged this on sonja benskin mesher.
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his watch.
thank you