Dear Diary

I forgot to begin with “Dear Diary”
the way I used to pretend talking
to myself in those lonely afternoons,
that even birds were silent
and trees fell asleep in
the embrace of the wind.

I tried to start afresh again,
letting the words stick, then
bounce into shelter of dreams
lost, to gather in the
finest threads of time
that I measured.

If only I can read my loss
written in the sand before
the wind carried it to unknown
places, so as to bottle it in faith,
before releasing into the sea
of forever never to look back.