Photograph©2015 B. Clary
All of your things are gone now.
My mind rummages through fading memories,
trying to find one bright enough to cling to.
The wisdom you’d freely given in my youth
reduced to worn etchings on my bitter heart,
relics of a time I had squandered it.
Dreams of you are few and far between
And when life gets hard, which it always does,
I long to speak to you.