before the birds sing
& yellow daffodils unfurl
pour yourself a teacup of mint & jasmine
& write your story of regrets on the pages
of notebook: line by line
the words appear waiting as if motionless
the verses turn wanting as if suspended
you know all of them, lingering at edge of light
beautifully absent
but you have learned something by now
you have not mourned them
you burned your bridges
Posted for dVerse OpenLink Night,hosted by Mish. Inspired by Tuesday's Poetics prompt on bridges. Thanks for the visit.
