lost to time

lost to time

as i turn the pages of the old

photo album,

my mind recalls the stories

the pictures bring to mind.

and in my mind they evoke the love

and happiness of simpler times,

of many voices,

of a full house.


but the house is empty now

and the voices are silent.

just the wind blows

passing between their stones.

even the names are worn.

and only the wind can recall

their stories of that time,

of those stories in my mind.


trust issues

trust issues

my own reservation

was it seen as a slight hesitation?

just a minor doubt-

before i put my hand out.

would it be felt in my shrinking flesh?

did it matter?

if it were known?

that reservation of mine.

didn’t i have the right?

so what, if it was seen as a hesitation,

maybe more than a minor doubt,

it was my reservation

and i would keep it

until proven.