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I’m not the only one.

A poem.

Photo by Wes Grant on Unsplash

It echoes, laced with laughter,
light as a feather,
carried on the wind.
Frivolous guffaws won’t
spackle over the truth:
I think we think we
miss the old you.
Is it hidden in a box,
under layers of dust —
a dull veneer, particles of your
molted former selves?
Or eaten up by flames —
a burnt offering on
your altar to nothingness?
I know, now, I’m not alone,
your former radiance
reflected back, shines through…




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Addey Vaters

Addey Vaters

Writer, reader, cat lover, and tea drinker. Poetry editor & podcast host at borrowed solace. Words in Adroit Journal, Vita Brevis, & others.

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