April 10, 2014

Gentle Hands of Time. ~ Bret Blumenthal {Poem}

Bret Blumenthal -not for reuse

I exist in the depths of the shadow—

my mind.

My soul seeks comfort.

The dew that collects
on the petals that glisten:
rays of sunshine.

Love? What of it?

A memory of the way things
could be.
Some far-off distant future,
past rivers, rushing childhood

No more safety-net daydream

Spoon-fed happiness tastes
bitter as it curdles with age.

Home seems so far back.

The road
is long with destination unknown.

Long winters.
Stuck in the middle.

I couldn’t
find my way if I turned back.
Gentle hands of time.
Hold me.

Love elephant and want to go steady?

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Apprentice Editor: Bronwyn Petry/Editor: Rachel Nussbaum

Photos: courtesy of the author, Pixoto

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