by Steven Craig

I have been plowing the thoughts for words
to make a mark where a mark is due
on the wall that stands before me
a mountain in name only

A place
a fragile heart
a path that is hard to walk
now that I know its end.

It is the crumbling of hopes
that rise above the loves
and early cares
where time ends.

The stilled night aire
you stand there
once again

As the day fades
as the night claims its own
as the eyes
close once more
but once
not to open again


Posted on 12/19/2007
Copyright © 2024 Steven Craig

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