The horizons dark horse looms across the skyline
shadows gather under silent storms
grey skies lower their mantle
time chips the day into pieces of patience
I wait for the doorbell to break the silence into action
alone, just writing and writing
thoughts in a flurry, everyone gone
Quietude has a soft language stirs the past
journeys milestones flow past
and I see moments of relish slip and slurp
even as I savour the best for last
my mind is moving from poetry to prose again
and the story takes on an urgency
of raging fires, lost loves, longed-for newness.
Full circle.
© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved,5 days ago
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