a gust of wind
(most likely created by me)
catches the windchimes
(if memory serves, given by me, to you)

time stops, cling cling cling
(they do sound, but not rapidly)
i focus, on dust covered strings
(white doves gone grey)

my days of safety and comfort
(gone with your passing)
cloudy with tears and sadness
(a mind wanting to fade away)

as these doves do settle
(my motion has ceased)
i catch my reflection in the window
(life inevitably, unfortunately, goes on, without you)

03/28/2006

Author's Note: *Part of my Archives I am bringing over to complete my collection.

Posted on 05/16/2007
Copyright © 2024 Jeffrey Parren