Rosemary J. Gwaltney
northern mountains, Idaho
In memory’s lash I saw you flash
through yesterday’s deep musings.
The winds we changed have rearranged
our years; and youth’s enthusings.
~ ~ ~
A sorrow cast in the depths of the past,
in a canyon’s echoed hollow.
Our holy ground without a sound,
taught both of us to follow.
~ ~ ~
Though dear the fire of sweet desire,
and ne’er our love could sever;
yet a shadow lies beyond youth’s skies;
some weeping lasts forever.
...Living is ever like crossing rivers; finding a new life on each shore ... RJG