bringing me back to life
should I try to rhyme
or stay on the sidelines
my petty thoughts
reminding me of many faults
as a child or teen
or burgeoning adult
how time seems not to count
[in the grand scheme of things]
passing by on land or sea
or by way of angel wings
carrying me to places
I’ve been meaning to see
such as the wilds of timbuktu
or the colors of xanadu
december two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
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