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