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Poetry

Hindsight


February 11, 2007
iranian.com

I gaze behind

Swift and certain

That all that was,

Were memories of

Things that became

The future of the past.

...

You think not?

Then lose a moment

To win a future

And look behind

To the road

On which you

Stumbled,

Walked,

Ran,

And hopped.

And left behind

Little piles of

Names and places,

Scars and flowers,

Tears and laughter.

...

Is that not

The same road

On which you

Stand and

Move forward?

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