Faucets
The hourglass tips, sand spills
onto memories rough edges
leaving grit to grind grooves anew.
Regrets and wistfulness
refusing to move on,
return over and over.
Replaying the same memory
fantasizing different endings.
Creating faucets with friction.
Pain is smoothed over years of time.
The roughness best forgotten.
Too sharp, it is able to cut souls,
into ill-shaped personas.
Experience, can be painful,
as it ages and refines youth
to well ripened wisdom.
Softened, bruised, mellowed.
Ready to put down the prism.
Seeing the past clearly now.
© 2010 Tamera Dobbins