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westley-barnesPoems
That weekend When we reached the lake house After it had rained enough to fill The floodbanks for an entire decade Do you rememember... what it was like? To walk down the footpath dissected by brambles And see the fog surround the land And those first moments So wonderfully calm It was if we had found a minnowing horse We once thought was wild Seeing into the eyes of it, We stayed for a whole week Every day so different from the weeks that came before Yet every day we felt absolutely settled in that place. The past recedes Into memory That is all we are capable of. Still, all the same We never fail to remember the past emerging an old punchline Only half forgotten.
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Jul 21, 2017
Jul 21, 2017 at 1:58 PM UTC
The Lake House
That weekend When we reached the lake house After it had rained enough to fill The floodbanks for an entire decade Do you rememember... what it was like? To walk down the footpath dissected by brambles And see the fog surround the land And those first moments So wonderfully calm It was if we had found a minnowing horse We once thought was wild Seeing into the eyes of it, We stayed for a whole week Every day so different from the weeks that came before Yet every day we felt absolutely settled in that place. The past recedes Into memory That is all we are capable of. Still, all the same We never fail to remember the past emerging an old punchline Only half forgotten.
Written by
westley-barnes
Irish
Jul 21, 2017
Jul 21, 2017 at 1:58 PM UTC
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