Misplaced by William S. Tribell
A summer thin spiced wind between the rains
Memory constant, in nagging redux, the déjà vu
She was a falling star and I made a wish on her
But she only left me lagging lost and lonely, again
Me drifting and her driven, foolish pursuits, bleak
A prayer to parlay betrayal into a fortunate future
Sorry somehow and I hope she still has the box of
Dried rosebuds, the desiccated heads, almost all of
The dead flowers I’ve given her and certainly I hope
May she never forget
^
William S. Tribell is a interdisciplinary artist. A musician, sometimes an actor, a Pulitzer nominated poet and so many other distractions. He has contributed to journals and magazines around the world and written some books. A cautionary tale, an oversexed ne’er-do-well starving artist type with erratic sleep patterns, and a penchant for travel, William blames most of his character flaws on not receiving enough hugs as a child. He thinks Birria tacos are amazing, his favorite color is green and Koala bears freak him out. @WSTribell
