THE ATTIC by Gerald P. Berns
In the attic
I lay on the old bed
Feet up in a sea of dust
And remember wanderlust
Decades back, three journeys, ‘til the snows came
Three languages
Three loves
Goodness
Back when I knew nothing
Haven’t thought of these warm wonderful women in a long time
Long lost love
From wanderlust
And there she is
And there she is
And there she is…
I know I have lived
Thank you
Thank you
Thank you