Saturday, March 3, 2007

A Lost Time

it was the residence of my

it was the era when I grasped, caught nothing.

it was the start of my fall
from grace. my slipping into space,
racing then waking
to lose myself.

chasing and aching, glaring
at your ghost.

it was the home of lost hope.

it was my home of lost


lost hope.

By Sara Pufahl

To read more of her work visit The Shores of My Dreams


The Wandering Author said...

Sara, I like this; it evokes the mood you are writing about so well, and so simply.

writerwoman said...

Thanks,Ray! I love hearing how a person interprets my work and knowing if I got across the meaning I was hoping to.