Stagnant
Published in
1 min readOct 21, 2017
If love is so wrapped in the past,
In a single gesture,
Or the scent of summers long gone
Her hair and skin lingering in memory
What is now?
When spring quickens again ,
A smile
Different eyes and mouth
Spark nothing but vague feeling,
So amorphous, diaphanous,
Fragile as cobweb,
Ignore it.
Today’s love cannot match past memory
Today’s sense is brittle with age and anger
Today’s touch doesn’t stir devotion
Or passion
Only the swirling ashes of fires long dead.