Poetry From The Cud:
On The Lake
Roger Grant

 

In summers of old, in that season’s embrace,
At dawn we’d set out on the crystal lake.
Days that seemed to never end, and nowhere I’d rather be-
Never was I happier.

Now in this city's heart, countless miles away
I sit in a heatwave's blaze.
Those fragmented echoes still whisper amid the bustle and din-
And I wish my yesterdays be tomorrow.

 

Photo by Mohammad reza bahmanyar on StockSnap

 

share