Coastpoet

In a quiet place
there is a moment
when all other moments

seem less important.
It is where
I feel the edge of my soul

rub against the thought
of who I am.
I wonder at my own existence

and feel myself
being drawn to a time
that is no more

and has never been
within the memory of my life.
Shades of visions

passed in a distant fog
dance about
and where I am

in my private self
makes no difference
to where I have been.

©Coastpoet