When Sunday brings this
To my skin, to these walls
I know what I missed
One second, one look
I passed it by, went her way
Of all my mistakes
What I didn't know
The story, the tilling land
The sound in the room
Is what brings Sunday
The tug of her memory
Next time I'll be there
I like this one a lot.
ReplyDelete(And apparently, I have the speaking skills of Forrest Gump, 'cause I don't know how to better express my love of this poem than through those six words.)