Monday, January 13, 2020

Wayne Russell writes


As the seasons speed past
and the aged vine deteriorates.

As tears subside and the heart
grows cold.

As minuet eyes of passion's
fire succumb to the haze of
mystic requiem, youth quickly
fades into pages of dust.

Pendulum sways the other way,
all in due time, a master of silence
written in the stars contemplate
fates of souls, of those gone before

and all in the silent passing of
moments we too, shall answer.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Join the conversation! What is your reaction to the post?