Sweet honey comb tears
Roll down my cheeks
When I think of little things;
Funny friendships I had
And immature lovers
Who create loud memories in my brain.
Wrapping moment after moment
Under the billions of stars
Who have seen more than I’ll ever.
Leaves of a rundown maple tree dying to ignite fall colors over sunsets, sunrises.
Reminding me time is endless and experiences limited.
We are reminded by shooting stars, explosions of time. Nothing lasts forever.
Twelve shooting stars and several cows
I counted
Scraped knees and hungry tummy like I'm young again.
Running in a drying yellow field
I remember when I wasn’t engulfed by insignificant worries
I lie awake to at night.
I laugh, because everything I think of is another layer of life I find unreal, unimportant.
Yet here I am, writing a poem about it.
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