I used to wonder what would happen
in the realm of never be’s
as I contemplated what we were
I to you, and you to me...
a simple little game I’d play
just to while the hours away.
Now I listen to the tales you share
and what they might inveigh,
and realize it’s foolish
to play this game I play.
In the forest of each life
there are many trees
it’s difficult to sort them out
once they’ve shed their leaves,
or to know how deep their roots are
by the broken limbs you see.
And I realize it’s grueling
to get back in the game
where everything’s ambiguous
and things are not the same.
And you’re so giddy with the prospect
of finding something new
that you can’t see past the forest
for the tree in front of you.
© Ginny Brannan 2024
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Thank you for reading my poetry and sharing your thoughts.