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Carolyn

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By Tammy CastlemanPublished about a month ago Updated about a month ago 1 min read
3

Every memory arrives

Creeping in, ghostly dances.

Leaving traces of bergamot

Incense of our lives.

Perhaps if there were second chances...

She dreamed her dream and then was gone;

Eclipsed by nothing, counting earth for naught.

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3

About the Creator

Tammy Castleman

I have been an avid writer and photographer for most of my life. In terms of true passions, those are mine. What I lack for in memory, I make up for in recorded detail. We are what we leave behind.

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  • Shirley Belkabout a month ago

    lovely to remember others by their scent

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