Lost
August 12, 2007 by Shirley Allard
I walk through the mist, in a fog
unsure what my next step should be.
I trip on a dead, lifeless log
that once was a lush, thriving tree
I fight innate urges to flee
now lost, in a forest of doubt
I long for a leaf that touched me
a shade I must now do without.
Yeah, this is how I feel often. You have such a nice touch with words. Gentle, but forceful.
Thanks Harry! You do a pretty good job of it yourself!
This one I love. My first visit but it won’t be my last.
Hi Archie, thanks! I just keep hoping it won’t be my last! Thanks for reading. –Shirley