Last Years Passing

There were days when it all felt so heavy 

Like the rain played a perfect part in echoing the sadness. 

Wondering if this was why Mr. Twain like the Northwest. 

The low fog that hung thick and heavy over the rough waters. 

Seasonal depression seem to hit extra hard

In shifting through the wreckage that came with this last years passing. 

Mountain views and river sides do not even look the same; 

Life kept going and it did not even seem to matter;

Nothing seemed to matter or feel the same. 

Uncertainty came once again with so many missing answers. 

A big hole that seemed to concave with each breath;

Lost rhythm and sounds that seemed muffled by the down pour.

Published by Ms. Selective

Traveling Gypse with a Heartfelt Spirit.

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