gliding

gliding

Monday, February 17, 2014

Lost



Morning is breaking through the mist
silent and trembling like a first kiss
down through the alleys all covered with rain
shoes ring out echoes lonely and strange

Footsteps that lead so far away
down through the street and out of the day
down to the sea and down through the years
awash with roses and cold with tears

Sleeping cobble stones windows empty
dark turns to light forlorn and heavy
no sounds now not even the wind
the sun rising, the day set to begin

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