Did I Ever Say Sorry?

Through troubled times and wasted years
Hurried goodbyes: your summer tears.

Fog is all this vision can muster.

But tell me, if you please,
Did we ever whisper what was needed?
What of it? Can we stop this pain tonight?





The backward glance, the empty hand,
the ubiquitous fog. Forlorn souls. And why?

Your lost touch.

The Dark Mountain approaches.

Again?

And with it all, I stop. The road turns.

I will follow.