The Passerby – July 31, 2019

Disturbed.

A lifetime used

To wonder,

But never reach out.

~~~

Time is dirty,

Muddy prints left.

Tracking down

Nostalgia lane.

~~~

Doors opened,

That should have stayed closed.

Latched and locked,

But picked with curiosity.

~~~

Trouble spilling on the floor,

Swept clean.

Specks of dust remain,

Undisturbed.

~~~

It is present,

But invisible.

Overlooked,

And shuffled around.

~~~

The particles collect

Into the corners.

The sudden whoosh

Of a passerby,

~~~

Up in the air and in your face.

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