Ah, things we’d rather be
No, don’t let us go there
We’ve been here long enough
To know where longing leads

About Ben Naga

The Spirit that graces me with its passing has no name and stems not from thoughts and words, though it gathers them up as it flows, but from feeling.

Posted on August 28, 2019, in Wee Poems and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink. 6 Comments.

  1. One nice thing about getting older. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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