• Xanadu Literary Magazine

Doug Marr


Cherished Memories,

subtle like whispers,

brighter than star-light,

torturous spirits.

She lit up my world.

Why must you remind

me? I want freedom,

from this painful heart.

Hope is my mind’s yoke,

my Heart, the teamster.

Cogs turn, on futile

subjects. Still thinking.


chained down to the ground

by these crazed masters,

must dream of past things.

My savior, Time,

Calms my feverous

soul. Now I return

to tranquility.

I am free at last.

Assuaged, my Heart

and my Memories,

are pleasant again.


freely flies away.

I set out again,

at peace finally.

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