The nights are starting to stretch into early
evenings – where there once was a boundless...
i am not whole.
i lived my life in fragments...
Always going
never arriving...
It’s funny how we don’t account for time,
as he just finds his way and slips right...
Your face burns, in stillness,
outside my winter lane...
Discovering
Individuality...
Primroses,
eternal, they are...
I was given a second chance
to think which I didn’t need...
War was an awakening
a rouse from my slumber...
And even if the ghosts don't sing
their hollow echos after 3 am...
Floating objects on
a calm sea riding on crests...
Once again it's here
Death is standing at the door...