Like leaving my imprints in the river
Like touching stone and having it crumble;
Looking at the furture in a ruby glittering bright
Conversing with the night birds in a lonely park
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Some of those dreams live again in poems. Others slip through our fingertips and are gone.Beautiful phrases and imagery in every stanza. Nostalgic write. Love, Sandra
I wish you enliven all your dreams. Nice one. I liked the theme.