Poetry: Valley of the Past

What is the past?

Is it childhood, or youth, or one's sweetheart last?

Of winters passed and layers of dust?

Or of secrets beneath the rust?

Is it a jar of morning dew?

When love was enough to carry you through?

When having faith was easy to do?

When dreams were dreams to come true?

Was it a time of a different you?

When your eyes held a different view?

When you thought chances came in twos?

When you played the game of rules?

Was it a time of tragic fun?

And a show you always needed to hone?

Was it either a win or lose, no in-betweens?

Of conscience flown and drawing-ins?

Was it for the ghosts and haunted deeds?

For the I-love-you's said and unread?

For points proven and things done?

That you throw your past to the but returning wind?

November 29, 2015