the things that wash away

memory fails

too often than not

the sound of your voice

your choice of fragrant balm

lost into the tunnels of time

why do some things stick?

like grass stains on petticoat

faint ghost reminder remains

embedded into fabric

the leafy mark

imprinted forever on my soul

and others wash out

no matter how I try

to hold them close

or pull them back

they rinse out

running in the water

dissolving among the rolling

river of recollect


tomorrow is never promised

with the wind at her back

she wished she could fly


she tried to out race

her beating heart hopes

they were always

one step ahead

but when she matched

the hope in her heart

with her footprints in sand

she saw them both

blown and scattered

with each gust of reality

disappearing into air

and it was then

watching her dusty dreams

swiftly drift away

she knew she must

walk along side her dreams

living them in her today

because tomorrow

is never promised