A Year Has Passed

He painted Me with a brush held in his lips

A year slipped by so lightly, like dreams of sinful trips

His coat still hangs, forgotten, gathering dust

It only brings a smile, for today, another's brush

Holds new dreams of sins in lips that do not trust

Bringing new forgetfulness for someone else's lust

Today I run from someone else, a New Me I display

Fearless of life’s chase, I race the winds at play

Golden dandelions I gather with a painter unknown

Whose name I couldn’t care to learn, whose life remains unshown

A light blue sweater now hangs, left behind alone

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