Just Desserts

When ‘why’ deserts me and now rye’s anathema
and wordplay fails to keep emotions out
I grow sombre, still, elated. I am a jumble.

My memories fill and empty what was me
– or ‘I’ – I still search language for a clue
to what it’s all about – until, relaxing,
I join enjoyed memories and flow.

2 thoughts on “Just Desserts

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