“That Past”

How easily the Past

Comes back to haunt us

How many times has that been said


It sits on one’s shoulder

Peeping, wondering

Do I come out


And then when it does

The Clouds appear

The Wall, that black wall

From nowhere

It is there


Today, tomorrow

Next week

Next month

How long one asks

Before I can forget that past


Have the strength

To push those clouds

Normally white and soft

New Black and hard

Push them away


Until the next time

Always a next time

Perhaps when death

Finally comes

And if I believe

There is a Heaven


Then one can turn

Look at each shoulder

Not only see

But feel

That Past is finally

Not there






2 thoughts on ““That Past”

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