Apr 23 2015

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Lost World of Yesterday

lost world of yesterdayIn the lost world of yesterday

I wander through partial memories,

where no one can verify my actions.

I remember an aging fool running,

grinning and fumbling papers and pads,

believing he was important,

making greater fools laugh.

The late April air is still cold,

as green shoots point upward

the sun teases them from behind clouds,

and wind gusts sweep the ground.

They and I have not yet blossomed.

Our true selves are still underground,

as our radical rage of youth and age

resist the advancing season.


L.A. Steel

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