…forevermore
In an ever silent dream
reaching for door after door
always the wrong door
beyond the trailing vapours
you can see the source flickering
weakly marking the path
the snow falls
dazzling within the darkness
achingly gentle
and in the end
any wind that blows
has a trace of sadness
a fragment of memory
still searching for that door
drifting with destiny
from such dreams
the night has fled
on softly blue ice
that door
that elusive door
out of reach, forevermore
© Ann Bagnall
