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: dreams Literature love owl poem poetry Prose sad writing

The Sad Owl

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