Wednesday, July 21, 2010


On the other side,
of those glass boundaries,
they are all there,
the founts of my best memories.

Guess I am carrying
the passport, the passes,
and all I would need,
but not the willingness.

I can feel the vacuum,
all around and within.
What am I missing?
Well, everything!

They are all waving,
my memories' founts,
from there beneath,
those wide glass bounds.

I wave back to them,
and everything blurs out,
as my eyes get filled,
I can hear them shout.

I stand still, wondering,
'why cant we all be together',
as time and the crowd
go hell for leather.

Another look at them,
my best memories,
I can see myself,
on those glass boundaries.