#1777-Here

Some days I look around,

Wondering what it’s all about.

No answers come to mind.

At least none that satisfy.

And yet I can no longer deny,

The seasons, or those,

Who have passed.

Like a faded picture,

Within me they reside.

But I can’t dwell there.

It’s not time yet.

For something,

Or someone special,

May tomorrow arrive here.