Fondness

A whisper in mad morning,
earnest flutterings of an unquiet mind,
forever nearer to what I perceive as glee,
untold memories, linger within.

Soft silver afternoon,
dispensed my former gloom
revived by aeons of not-quite-belonging here,
and thoughts induced of what might have been.

A slinking sense of fondness
for all that was, and myself included,
pervades my inner sanctum now,
and no crow appears too dark,
no heart shows up too scarlet,
as all is as all should be.