No more,
no more.
It is gone
and lost to us now –
the how and the where and the why.
All that’s left
there in the remains of
a million Saturdays
is a listless, wondering haze
of woulds and coulds and shoulds:
the regrets of age.
And the rage,
the rage,
in flashes and waves
that the end of days
makes equal ash and bone
of both the fool and the sage.
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A Virginia Writer's Diary 
Beautiful.
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Thank you!
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My pleasure.
xoxoxo
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‘in the remains of
a million Saturdays
is a listless, wondering haze
of woulds and coulds and shoulds:
the regrets of age.’
My mind is blown. This piece is very well written!
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Thank you!
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Regrets and rage get along well.
Wonderful! 🙂
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Thank you! Yes, I think they’re often present together, though it varies which shows up first.
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Lovely…
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Thank you!
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Wow, you’re amazing. I’m so glad I found your blog. Loved this ❤❤
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Thank you so much! This sweet comment made my day!
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You’re most welcome 🙂
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