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Second Act
Folder:
And Time Goes By Sifted, harmonious thoughts,
a thousand variations of
my life, as I shift into second act.
Colorful paper links are left in
the dust of stage debris.
Now in new attire, new womanhood,
old beaded curtains and peace signs
hang in my mind, unwilling to be
dropped by the wayside like old
discarded jeans.
The sweet scent of giggle weed
still lingers in dreams of then,
and like frozen lightening,
I dance for all the memories
of those days.
But a woman and her time
are not always one,
and ahead of me is the skyline
of a new era.
The stage is set, the air
refreshing.
I enter the second act
of a life well lived.
