Paths

a funnel once wide took it all in

now empties into destined urns

thru holes that remain from the bullets of time

draining much of what had pooled inside

just before mornings light

memories in ashes can be seen

like petals strewn on dead end walks

intended to not be gathered

they mark a path yet taken

this past is for another

as mine was for me

hope renews

city trees
Boston, MA

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