Menu Home

Sun Dried

Endearing

In the dark fearing

Hands of the clock stop

So minute, fragile and falling

Like the length of a hair stretched to its end

Broken and holding onto the faintest scent


So quiet like a ghostly whisper calling

Asking how was our time before then

Taken with the wind where it went



The way you sit in the moonlight

And glow brighter than the stars at night

Gone now with the days like my dreams

©  The Sad Owl

Categories: poetry Prose

Tagged as:

The Sad Owl

I'm just here. Until I'm not.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: