An unanswered question

You’ve asked that question again, and then

dropped your head, posing so purposefully in thought

and I stare blankly at your hair, hanging in suspension

like us, hung, in some past memory of ours

or perhaps in a future dream


I see your life before me (and I search for me in the picture)

Is it that we have so many roads and no time?

or so much time and not enough road?

I have no answer,


РChris George 

September 1980 

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