Listless as a cloud
Being dragged across the sky
Disintegrating….
The tale is yet to unfold
No stir beneath, not breeze above
The water’s glassy surface.
Morning secrets begin to rise as cold white whispers
In the silence of the breaking day,
Evaporating in the warm forgiveness of the golden sun.
She made herself smaller and smaller,
Until she fit into the palm of your hand.
Jaded, she would lie there,
Delicate
Shivering
Praying for you to become the home that would shield her
From all of the other sharp edges of the world.
Travelling through time
While suspended in midnight
Returning to you.
A fleeting moment
Oceans of words unspoken
Too soon you vanish.
Reality comes
And as sure as the morning
Your echo remains.
Til next we meet, there
In that star-concealed escape
Remember me.
Kathleen Jamieson 