Poetry For Everyday People

Wisdom

As corners in rooms
take on memories
as our habits harden
with time
we fight to hang on,

without certain.

One can only follow
an instinctive path.

Tin roof, red wine,
rain, paper/pen,
guitar, a rocking chair,

wishing what we will
never confess.

As time battles
our minds
and mint tea comforts
our ancient souls

we patiently await.