Shadows of the past

Fleeting glimpses of a Beauty, shadows quickly slips by.
Memories of a time, come alive, in the corner of my eye
coalesce for a moment, then ashes upon the winds of time. 

Years have wasted away, hanging on, letting go, this rhyme,
the final voice to say so, will allow Beauty, to become the past.
Always wondering why memories of, remained so steadfast.

Clinging tightly to experiences of what was, no longer can be.
Will this be, the closing of this book, will this soul finally see
the folly of clinging to a dream that dissipates upon awakening.

B. J. “A” 2

 D 20ecember 8^th,21