Into sloth
and occasional melancholy,
into vices
of romantic realities—
earning a living,
raising children,
loves found—
and lost.
Where do the years go?
Into travel and play,
music and drink,
talk, laughter and saving the world.
Where do the years go?
Into watching cloud formations
float across planetary skies,
but also into sloth and melancholy.
I don’t regret a moment of it.
© 2025 Bruno Talerico
Stafford challenge 252/365.
Picture is my visa to Brasil, 2010.
Desert Dweller 