Pages of a history
Blank
Filled
Now, empty
An open meadow
In your presence
Commanding
Enthralling
Fulfilling
You met me
On a summer day
The sun
Against your face
My shoulders
In your embrace
I was
moved
By you
An Enigma
Like a lingering
Taste
Broken now
Hurt
Displaced
We are
All
a little Broken
Misplaced
Yet
Broken Crayons
Still Color
With grace
© Tridaugh Winston
