Wildflowers dreams (For Brigitte)
A Poem by Coyote Poetry
Once I was lost. A kind young woman saved me.
Young love, first love. Can expand too quickly. Leaving two people with no place to go. Love isn’t fair. Need the unities of two people living and dying for the want and need of love. The balance of love is held by the threads of tender words and a thousand kisses. Neglected love is dying love. Dying love is like a runaway train to hell. No place to go except tears and loneliness.
I lost my first love in the late Winter of 1978. I went into hiding for months and I learned love was painful and can falter. Leaving me with the education. All love wasn’t true. I went crazy for a while than I started running. I ran six to eight miles a day…
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