Memory hurts – our hearts are stung
But sometimes I think the pain is for
Not a particular place but more
A special time – when we were young
For freer days when we knew hope
And what we felt we had was – scope.
The best have loved the worst
Love’s no criterion
Of merit – that I am first...
Three boats ride at anchor in the calm night
Warning lights winking without respite
And the far headlands to left and right...
.jpg)
