There are times when I
still hurry past this place —
an interruption of peace
and contemplation — but the tree
has now grown enough
to disguise the wound
carved upon its skin.
Removed from sight
my mind can be at ease,
but there are memories
which can not be forgotten.
Tonight, emotions will be stirred
with my drink, I will take down
the jar of sand from the mantle
and spread it across the paths
Perhaps, when the jar is empty,
I can begin to refill my heart.
For the Sunday Whirl wordle.