MOVE ME POETRY — A POETRY COMMUNITY LIKE NO OTHER

Shadows

…mark the hours

Image courtesy of Adobe Stock

Icy wind flows in
the feathers of winter’s wing

shadows mark the hours
underneath a moonless sky

the night is breathless
sighing silken blue pre-dawn

one melting moment
close to dying slips away

into tomorrow
just as my dreams are fading

liquid in my grasp
shredding like clouds in the wind
and slipping through my fingers

© Ann Bagnall