The past is a cowboy with a lasso

It’s always the same

Sweet memories lead to sad ones

Lead to regret, lead to pain

Lead to what if’s and why’s

And then anger into depression

So I hide anchors in the present

Ways to thwart the lasso

Ways to fight back, to resist

The birds singing remind me of

The past slips in…

Waking up mornings…

Different time, different place

Anchor grabbed….

The birds are singing now

In this place

In this now

And they sound beautiful

And I am safe

I am stable

I am… in the present

Where I should be