Past Poem by Atsar MusePen
Past
I blew her a kiss from a third story stair case
Turned my head and continued to climb
She reached for the love as it blew right past her
Missing her youth…still circling mine
Andrea waits at the end of the dance line
Still dressed in her jeans from another time
Reflecting on the years from a withering mast
The winds are only whispers now
As the mirror…sails you past
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/23/2024 10:30:14 AM # 1.0.0.1119
