Pictorial Prose

Pictorial Prose
Indulging my most lucid daydreams

Thursday, September 26, 2024

Changing Of The Season

 My father always said upon leaving " I'll be seeing ya " I never once heard him say good bye. I have come to realize how final a goodbye actually is. With each goodbye the heart aches a little more. It is the changing of the season, dark, gray and a little cooler. I can't help but  think of the people who came into my life and for a moment redirected the path I was on.  I can't help but feel the loss that overwhelms my soul. It's not often I let the tears fall but it reminds me of the poem I wrote many years ago. " The weight of a tear" "as it rolls my cheek it picks up memories"

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