arrived
no calling card,
a bit disheveled –
didn’t talk a lot.
He left with his dinner-
only a crumb lagged
behind.
He didn’t
warrant memory,
but he remains
on my mind.
I imagine
he appeased
the Wind,
complimented
Torrential Rains,
grimaced as
he blessed
the Infernal Sun.
Temporary,
he was set upon –
set upon
to rile our interest
tantalize our interest,
and be gone.
04-30-21
I feel like a visitor in my own life. I have abandoned my former existence, more from a level of succumb than desire. I have embraced a new life and emerged quasi triumphant in plotting a path to growth. Yet, my heart longs for my roots. The tangled winding rooted path that will only reveal its route when least expected.
twittimay 
Nice poem but maybe your comment at the end was not apropos. One should never look back, only forward. You have done what many people wish they could do—create a new life for themselves.
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