Taste flowed from
the meal set before me.
At one point, perhaps.
Now, it's essence
has gone elsewhere,
leaving only the nourishment.
Cold foodstuff,
poorly mixing with
the drink of choice chosen.
The memory of the original
still flows through it,
still there...
still hoping...
Had heat been produced,
maybe the thoughts of the past
would have been warmer
to the core.
It's close enough...
it's close enough.
Enjoyed without regret,
as the cold days fade.
It'll only get warmer from here.
No comments:
Post a Comment