Memories

Memories
are dark, disjointed
as in a dream.
A thread of thought
weaves through them all
as does the lull
of lavender.

Faces, places
things we’ve done
morph into each other.
Where is truth
or was it ever there?
Perhaps, the longing
made it so.

Woodland walks
and moonlit talks
quicken my drumbeats flow.
Lies that echo
through the woods
pictured in the fog
of long ago.

…

Sample my books for free — To date, $1945.00 has been donated to the homeless:

Gotta Find a Home: Conversations with Street People
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They Call Me Red:
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Private Eye: Eugene Leftowicz
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Podcasts:
http://buff.ly/1Pxlf9p Sara Troy:  Self-Discovery Media
http://buff.ly/1XU368M Sara Troy:  Positive Vibrations Roundtable
http://buff.ly/2jdjZd6 Patricia Saunders: Writetimes Literacy Project