Across our river, beyond the mist
I watch your shadows fleet
Angel feathers through the gale
I hear your whispers fade
So let's raise a glass, perhaps two
To the tales that told of me and you
Maybe a third, then a fourth
'Till I can hear that voice of yours
Too old to forget
Too young to regret
Embers die, later or soon
The lone wolf howls at a waning moon
All I've left, your silhouette
Still so bright a dying light
When dust descends upon forlorn memories
Will you be there to whistle our story into the breeze?
Let my tears fall upon your splendor
But I can't leave
Not before I find you back
Or wither by the roadsides
You jar that holds my heart.
So I query the heavens at the end of time —
Must we be heartless
to not be heartbroken?
-
Lost at night
Found my light
YOU ARE READING
nightlight
Poetryliteral 9th grade poetry // "some feelings are forever ironic: only when i am most lost does a firefly's nightcandle alight before my cozy corner in this void; at least when my fingers hold a pen, i feel a semblance of touching it." // there's...