Forward

Jan 15, 2024
1 min read

The meandering and branching paths

Of forests deep and dense

Make comedy of destiny and fate

I turn around to find again

A path not walked, a missing bend

To meet them overgrown, the hour late

I think of you in meadows green

And under foreign stars

My heart insists it was a song for you

But all the paths ahead of me

Cannot recall the scattered seeds

And beaty cannot breathe in memory

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