02.14 Poem by Alex London

The gauzy light of sun descends,
Space bids you rise and frame the void
As shadow arms of branching ends
Cascade through glass, their spirits buoyed.
The scene in stone is solemnly set
As mournful stillness soaks the air,
Away the dusty veil crept,
And left the black bones standing bare.
Your icy hands begin to grasp
Upon the tips of grass and buds
Whose lowly heads you tightly clasp
As frozen tears fall in their floods.
With hours that pass, the sun will rise gleaming,
And conquer the darkness, celestial beaming.