If the past had
been revealed,
it would have
been as if a
grain of sand
washed upon the
shore,
A pebble lying
in wait.
A tattered veil
being lifted,
giving entrance
to peek through,
this story would
have played
differently.
The actors,
like a leaf
blowing in a
breeze,
somewhere a
faint memory.
(c) copyright heather burns