That everything you touch is cold
Or not available, or sold?
I’ve done my best to keep in touch
But the warm weather has been such
That my friends are straws I cannot clutch.
They’ve all got plans for their free time
I cannot blame them; I had mine
When we were two; alone I pine.
Time the Great Healer – Is this so?
Ten years down the track I go
A cork just bobbing on the flow.
Drifting onwards far from shore
Little currents promise more
My destination still obscure...
(c) Poet in the woods 2014
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