121

sometimes when I’m not paying attention, I
am brought to a moment, passed
when my legs ran against beach sand
racing towards waves, relentless

a memory just barely out of grasp
of being young and being free
from obligation, rising rent prices
career leaps and bounds

I’m getting farther and farther from the shoreline
I’m lost in something
more sad than nostalgia —
forgetting

17 thoughts on “121

  1. brother craig

    If I didn’t know better (and I mean this as a compliment), I’d swear you were 40 or 50 years old. To so clearly perceive (and capture) the vanity (and danger) of life lived according to the world at your age is a gift, and a signpost in the search for meaning. Nice work!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Tthis is really well done Elle. I think it’s the best thing I’ve ever read of yours. The last stanza is completely quotable & profound. You could have simply written that, slapped a title on it, and it would have floored me.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Pingback: Michelle Nguyen – The Vale of Soul-Making

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