everyone deserves a second chance
**but not for the same mistake

The same person that broke you
**can't fix you

Gather 'round, gather around.
The music plays as we stare at the magician. All cloaked in red, in honor of their traditions.

Styled by the mortician, we're all gathered around because of her magic tricks.

She can make herself disappear.

So step right up...step right up. Take a look and take a seat. The crowd whispers and whimpers and we're broken by the sound of her mother's weep.

And at exactly one o'clock she'll make herself ashes...by kicking the chair from underneath her feet.

Voilà
...Houdini.

I  still  love  my  Catherine  dearly.
Her  beauty  unsurpassed.
Long  golden  hair  and  pale  blue  eyes.
I  still  think  of  her  like  that.

But  that  was  four  decades  ago.
The  time  has  just  elapsed.
But  time  stands  still  in  the  memory.
Just  like  a  photograph.

We  were  to  marry  one  March  day.
But  circumstances  took  me  away.
When  I  returned  from  foreign  climes.
Life  had  moved  on  with  the  times.

I  never  saw  her  ever  again.
Odd  letters  I  did  get.
She  was  swallowed  up  in  city  life.
And  I  often  have  regrets.

Has  she  grown  old  gracefully.
Or  in  youthful  beauty  died.
Many  times  I've  thought  of  her.
And  many  times  I've  cried.

But  in  my  mind's  eye  clearly.
Running  swiftly  down  the  hill.
A  vision  of  loveliness.
Within  my  memory  still.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK. 2016.