I’m always wandering afterward,
the crisis of my face in close examination.
What to say, what I said, what I might:
my romantic confusion—
where to go from here,
where I have been.
Now to turn and simply go on home,
more unsure than then,
whenever that was,
how—and why—
Some cry returns
I can never entirely retain
or restrain,
a wanting not to wont,
a fitting for the frame,
a reason not to blame.
Love this, Jack! You possess a real gift!
Not wondering yet always wandering afterwards. A visage in close examination. I’ve been to therapists and not one ever really helped me. Only my self, through much introspection … took a lifetime … to realize my true self, and finely to be able to have faith in the person I finally knew well. Nicely expressed poem Jack … 💟💟💟💟💟💟