Walking the Moon – July 24, 2020

Grief, life, love, poetry 1 Minute

I see them, living

I see the lives untorn

Born into what we are made

Twists and turns

Burns and successes

Filed away

Fly me to the moon

You’ll find me

Bouncing

Fleeing the sensation

To disappear

And no longer

Stare down the throat

Of the mule

Pulling the cart

Because I see them

And want to be them

But am always

Just

Me

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Published by Doree

Grief Out Loud. Art. Life

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