My mind drifts

My mind drifts,

downstream,

to reminisce,

and to predict –

anxious

of what is 

to become.
 

I float

toward this unknown,

waterfalls, lakes, oceans –

new shores to rest upon;

what becomes of me

has little to do 

with the stories I tell,

and everything to do 

with the decisions I make.
 

My mind drifts,

and if I could,

I would plant myself

but I can’t find my feet

to ground myself;

so I plant new seeds,

leave myself 

to float away,

and begin again

some other day.

Another Year

Another year
and we’re still here.
We had dreams
last year,
you and I –
we were miles away.

We were different people there,
living it up,
smiling – laughing – living,
yes, one of those
we envied,
disdained,
but ultimately admired.

We had a plan,
it was all drawn up,
signed off,
we shook on it,
looked into each others eyes,
it was full proof –
so what went wrong?

Another year
and we’re still here.
Living a dream,
we’d rather not live,
you and I –
we’re miles away.