Thursday, March 13, 2014

A poem for the reader's I don't have:


My baby teeth would recall 
Smiles from daydreams ago
But they’ve left me
these old pearls in their place.
My feet would recall
twirling to folk music, in haste;
spilling from grandpa’s accordion,
to the life I thought would befall.
But I’ve left them, absentees,
this me in my place.
The disappointment, though
all my old parts would have never expected.
Or those smiles from daydreams ago.
 Copyright Y.Z.