–Amy Engle


National Poetry Writing Month 2017 Poem #26


A certain place is set in the present time.

Seconds, minutes, hours pass as normal.

And yet returning to this place in the future

Sparks nostalgic memories of the past.

The good, the bad, the mundane remain,

Preciously preserved in the back of the brain.

Wishful longing for better days is overwhelming.

Someday the now will be nothing more than

A faint, happy memory, adding to the others.