Past
The past arrives,
like four o’clock
in the morning
It presses you
with insights,
but on waking,
in daylight
there are only
fuzzy dream-like edgesIt is a spiral
all that is unresolved,
returns
to be dealt with
once again
faces change,
faces forgotten
but the theme remainsUntil finally
the story
has changed
the shape of your bones
© Tanya Southey
#52words52weeks
#monthlymusing