…into a desolate wind
My days follow my nights
a shadow is thrown
a precious moment lost to clouds
the sky fades from blue to grey
and a gentle rain falls within
everything changing colour
my nights pass without emotion
across the still and shimmering sky
an achingly silver moon
adrift as if in open seas
an inspiration to the darkness
it seems now but vacant space
his silence is unexplained
like an old scar that continues to ache
hours seem to pass slowly
this darkness travels afar
like a blanket of ash
our song now floats upon the breeze
playing in the darkest shadows
of my weeping heart
there is the scent of wild violet
and my tears fall as heavy as pearls
like secrets
whispered into a desolate wind
© Ann Bagnall 2014
