Outside my window
life has transformed
for those who have
lost their yesterday.
A mere glimpse into a
less than perfect future
through stale conversation
from those who lost
their yesterday.
Regrets hover their pale
faces lacking gratitude
for what they have,
complaining harmoniously.
Behind the white sheer
curtains I smile remembering
my yesterday. Like a human
vice I hold those few images
so when engulfed in
conversation I cherish
those who help me
make them. Outside my
window life continues
for all that has been given
another day.
-Lorna-
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem