The Long Way

As I travel down paths once gold,
now silvered, blighted with tarnish,
I find myself precariously perched on Mnemosyne’s back.
Running my fingers through her mane,
I listen to each clip-clop,
by the icy snows
of time.

Looking in the windows,
the shapes,
the light,
a graceful arm dances,
laughter sings.

Again and again, Mnemosyne stops and starts,
place to place,
moment to moment,
and I am carried
where her will goes.

Starry night burns my eyes.
Crisp air my lungs.

When now?

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1 Comment

  1. Starry skies are amazing! Mnemosyne brings them forth to remind us what is real…. what is important….what is love….

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