Hauntingly the memory
of all we might have been,
poignant and evocative the
dance of heady dreams.

Difficult to separate from
all those hopes and taunts,
riding wings of fantasy;
grief the mind does haunt.

Sudden and destructive
did the impulse rise,
surging in abandonment;
electric, inner fires.

So the moment disappeared,
no chance to linger long,
love did die so slowly;
faint that distant song.

About rosross

Editor, writer, poet.
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