|
This Morning
I
stopped by
But no one was there,
The papers were three days old,
There was a sense of activity
You could feel it in the air,
Sort of a Caribbean
Highland heather
Mix of emotion, excitement
And anticipation,
I found myself stuck
In that place between thoughts,
Should I leave a note,
Hang around, knock again,
I slipped away,
Such is the way of things
When you’re looking for the path.
Stephen Nesbitt ©
|
|