Ambush

Life’s disappointments

Run gamut of circumstance…

Accumulated

Pain not half-century dulled,

Quiet ache recalled in sleep.

~

Like time-twisted wire

Barbs burn, tearing up through skin

Unexpectedly;

Putrid cloud-waft memories…

Ambush, by Past’s scythe again.

© R L Cadillac, 2017 ~ All rights reserved.

Image ~ Pixabay

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