Was nothing but promise set out before us…

Walkin in the park for a thousand years

A playground for the children, a wildflower just for you

Setting off into the future, such a classic story

 Sinatra sang about us

But there were stumbles,

Maybe a wayward thorn, tis only a scratch

Maybe we were just off, after being so on

But the off was the off of the path we saw

And like a haze, like a fog,

A step was missed, call out the dogs

our story had become lost

only so close we reached out for each other…

missed by a fraction, the slightest hint of doubt (did I feel skin?)

may they find the remains, us  trying to regain

Discarded memories strewn about

just a  body on the side of the road,

That is completely littered with……

the things we lost along the way