I walk along
the ghosted streets,
that are now awash
with fresh ambitions,
scurrying to fill the hours
to never see those wispy faces,
and forms that wait at the corner
for a bus, ethereal, and long
out of service,
that still picks them up.
Their voices strong again,
hum old tunes,
and speak of loves long forgotten.
To see them again,
and laugh with them again,
as we travel the road to yesterday,
tells me tomorrow is forever.

01/29/2002

Posted on 01/29/2002
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