Tuesday, January 10, 2012


You left a print, not a story.

Beauty paints an impression,
a thing pressed into the soul,
not a time-line of events.
I bear your mark, your print.

Despite my dark nature,
I have in me small lights . . .

and you are there.

1 comment:

greysquirrelb said...

I really love this. Thanks for your gift of writing the inner heart so poetically.