Pace By Pace Poem by Peter S. Quinn

The day is coming to the evening
With hours of its secret passageways
From winter's rises and falls - in cloud grays
When nothing but the breeze to bare trees sing
The darkness is endless - in its motions
Filling the space with longings all around
Contented moments nowhere at this time found
Just distant sometimes hoping notions

Pace by pace the light flickers fragile on
To nothingness of its pestilent wick
Each day becoming longer in winter's still
The flowers and the colors - all long gone
To time’s keeping clock and its steady tick
Who's circling rounds - has promises to fill