I found the following poem on an old post. I wrote it in 2017. I’m not sure what I was thinking then, but it has new meaning to me now. The clock hands seem to slow down and speed up randomly these days. The dark and quiet follow me each night. “Till death do us part” has a whole new meaning on the other side. But my love was not blind. It was aware and alive. It still is.
And Repeat clocks hands so slowly move on across the minutes twenty-four and repeat quiet dawn to soft dusk and moments in between at last the lovers meet that raven evermore returns time and again dark and quiet to mind until death do us part in faded lace and white oft times love is so blind 5-9-17