Old Haunts Poem by Aaron Marchant
Old Haunts
There's moss now on the path we walked
Lichen on the bench we talked
A gathering of russet leaves where one spring day
I held your hand and breathed a sigh and said goodbye
How many rainbow's have framed this bruised sky
since our last kiss that seminal day?
I thought the love was in me, as I walked away
Yet I had held it in my hand, and could not see
I trust you took it with you to a wiser man than me
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1/17/2025 1:23:23 AM # 1.0.0
