Absence by Ken Allan Dronsfield


Has anyone seen me?
I know I used to be here,
perhaps there, somewhere.
I feel so lost, gone like
bones in old red clay.

Dust in a strong breeze.

I feel like a cat nine tail,
standing straight and tall
bent over in marsh winds
waving to all lake side,
lost fantasy skyward.

Passion blooms; life après.

Depth of a cranky shade
of listless yet excited bliss.
Blessed by the thoughts and
prayers of strangers, love
entranced in a whisper.
But has anyone seen me?


Poet’s brief bio:

[Profile] Ken Allan Dronsfield



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