When I hear you talk
arms flailing, the rise
and fall of the voice,
I trace the contours of
your face with my eyes
Meet an acquaintance,
watch your spirit plunge
with all its might
into reason, contention,
willingness to bring change.
The mirror reflects a memory
from years ago,
a forgotten affair with passion
buried under layers of
quiet living.
What’s lost is often around the corner
The apple, they say, doesn’t fall far from the tree.
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A Hundred Quills 
That really makes me think…. layers hidden beneath the quiet living. Such power to your words ❤
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So true! Beautifully said, Sonia.
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A thought-provoking reflective poem.
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Thank you, Liz. Best wishes for your novel writing.
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You’re welcome, Sonia, and thank you for your best wishes!
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Thank you Sonia. Beautiful reflective poem and so true. Recognize the feeling anyway.
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So universal, right?
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