Transient

No coincidence.

Photograph by author.

How is it that I can remember?
Things I’ve never been told
Where do these memories stem from?
I want to come in from the cold.

I don’t believe in coincidence
Old memories are smarter than that
I walk up the street and whom should I meet
An old memory with a welcome mat.

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A place for duuudes of all sexes, ages, religions, and coffee-preferences to hang out and shoot the sh!t about their latest creations, to brag, lament, query, or quote, it’s all good…

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David Rudder

David Rudder

Top writer in Poetry. I am a diarist and write poetry to reflect my thoughts.

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