And the morning passes in silence.
The open door exaggerates
the footsteps in the hallway.
The breeze, unexpected,
takes away the heat.
I turn over once more
to look at a wall I cannot see.
In the darkness
the shadows flying, fleeting
run me down
Once again.
Comments (1)
so cyclic and yet...so promising...no...?...:)
walls
of silence
in the openings
its cracks
a buzz of expectation
unrequited...awaits
as vents
for storms that rage
blowing steam
as lights fade
and dark mists
overwhelm
a night sky...so full of stars
unlike day...
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