what happens to all
the questions that go
unanswered?
all the whys
the how comes
the what if i had onlys
what space do they
fill?
what mirror reveals
their reflection?
sometimes i think they
wait in my dreams
to smother me with
their weight and heft
while i
restlessly
ponder what doesn't matter
anymore
and maybe never did
perhaps the old unanswered questions
are the mists that settle like dust
on grandmothers furniture
are they waiting for me to write
my name in their legacy?
here is what i think
these questions that have
no answers –
with time
they disband, dissolve, disperse
and become the compost
that feeds the dreams of my soul
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