Faces Of My Past
Just lately for some reason
faces of old, friends
who have passed away
flicker across my memory
constantly day after day.
Sometimes I even dream of them.
Holding conversations
with them there.
I know of late that I’ve been
feeling lonely within myself.
It could be the past
I yean for once more.
A past unattainable,
something that has gone forever.
The more I think of it,
the more the faces I see.
In quiet moments I sit
like I’ve always done
and try to concentrate,
but the faces of the past
begin to reappear again.
It would seem like
the past doesn’t want to let me go
and times then races by.
Before you know, the quiet space
has all but gone.
21 February 2008
poem by David Harris
Added by Poetry Lover
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