How deep the well that holds our futures past,
its formidable lining cast in stone—
posessing seeds of memories unsown;
and consummated love that wouldn’t last.
There's only few who’ve seen our souls unmasked,
before the vines of life were overgrown;
and more unique when one still stands alone,
despite how often roles have been recast.
Yet in this spinning Möbius of time,
reflections in the broken shards of youth
will often circle back to certain truth
well hidden in the caches of our prime…
The time now ripe for these words I could never say:
“The rightness eclipsed each mistake made along the way.”
© Ginny Brannan 2014