The vision was broken
I sat alone, I was able
Coffee and bread
On the table
Clark Gable again on the cable
I deemed the light with delight
As the past came in, as a favor
Flavor, your lips
Sight and your eyes
Your hair moved by the air
Your face always there
The vision was broken
Someone needed a token
Softly spoken said
It’s I
Photo by kevin dooleyPhoto by Sean Kelly AusPhoto by garryknightPhoto by lorenkerns