As if the wait
was longing for something or someone,
between needles of light and clouds relics
wrapped in the shroud of dusk.
While the horizon disappears,
few words remain suspended
in the silence which divides us.
The desperate night pulsates with echoes,
lights dead regrets.
And you, heart, are not able
to abandon youself to the stream of life
anymore.
The glow edging the creek
is only the useless memory
of a dawn that will not arise.
avalon - http://zret.blogspot.com/