Some say my time is nearly done
still I roam from place to place
even if only in my mind
for rambling allows me to forget
but also to remember
oftentimes I ramble
of things that never were
and things that I have lost
and the things that I hold close
my rambles become verses
in the mirrors of my mind
restless and relentless
they cry out of the darkness
only comforted
when my pen meets the page
once set in ink they joyfully fade
melting softly into the far horizon
© Ann Bagnall
Annie's Poetry 