Ah melancholy you, melancholy me.
Twins of pains throughout our separate travels
in lands and time blown away by great
distances and choices right or wrongly
You clutch dearly to your past like a child does a doll
all tattered and torn since received from her inception
from the womb that bore here into this world.
Myself in that journey I took. and of which
I am still on, I fumble in my pockets, fiddling with the
loose change of memories I have always kept close
and collected throughout time.
Both predilections in the way we cope in our
own entanglements are either
a solace, a penance, a nuisance, or
Why not us both seek a new habit?
You throw down your doll
I shall let my change fall
through my fingers as I grab
your hands tight in mine
by Philip Wardlow March 29th, 2022