To Jane
Day dawns with a wind from the west
and clouds that sit halfway down the hill.
How long, my dear, have we known this place?
Let’s say more than fifty years, to be safe,
fifty years, five decades, six hundred months plus,
and the weeks and the days and the hours
must accrue uncounted, for calculation
adds little to the balance of life’s experience.
Things seen and done add to memory,
are shuffled like cards in a pack,
come to the top in ways we can’t determine.
Remember this then: that here we stand,
together, once and fifty times, and this remains.
Our Place by Colin Will | Sandalwood Rose Poetry Reed Diffuser
$15.00Price
