Another One Of Those Things

There's a tweak in the air,
each time slumber
knocks me down,

must've been my broken ribcage,
my nicotine and tar-filled lungs,
that is giving up on me.

Yet, it's a wonder, I still know
how to breathe.

For, there are moments,
ought to be remembered,
and minutes to be pursued.

Have you felt it, too?

That there was once,
something memorable;
something that only
our hearts could see

right there;
beneath

the balding glabrous
spreading tree.

---

Springtime came,
summertime, and
winter, too,

everyday, I would wake up
from the same dream
where I was awake, and
dreaming.

Of you.

Copyright (C) 2013 by EvanescentMoon.
02.09.13

*written for Colm's 7 - day contest: Day 5