could a wife's cold feet
be only a remembrance
of some past lifetime,
lost in an unexpected plunge
into the North Atlantic deep ?
a husband turns the thermostat lower
but his forehead still perspires,
is this only a symptom of some past lifetime,
lost in some raging fire ?
she's attrated to his warmth,
he moves closer to her cold
and clinging together they lay there
pondering the mystery,
some story left untold.
do souls voyage,
crisscrossing through the years,
interwoven in births and funerals
amidst the laughter and tears ?
the answer may lie with the lightning bug
who stands alone waving a twig,
conducting heavens fireworks and
orchestra of thunder,
leaving the mind alone at night...
free to marvel and wonder.
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