a winter night’s rain falls; drizzles.
found finally
after a long crippling disappearing act,
ink appears and draws up these words;
the cold drifts through the piles of facts
while an old, dusty empty room chills the feet.
seeking in theses are hollow, reflective, blinding thoughts,
desperately shoving them full with memories engraved.
the last match strikes the box
and left a candle flame flickering.
small patches of ice floats down a blackened river
and there, justifying everything that was and all that is;
the darkened indigo swims and still leaves me in a silent creek bed ripple .
a familiar echo crosses the street
and invades every dream.
shadows raise a brow
and tips its hat to the last shone moonbeam.
a winter night’s rain falls; drizzles.
found finally
after a long crippling disappearing act,
ink glides and draws up these words…
c. 2015 bgw
This one I really liked the imagery displayed through your emotions and words, Bradford. The river with patches and the indigo darkness. I like the romance in moonbeams. Nicely expressed. Smiles, Robin
LikeLiked by 1 person
thank you for your kind words! i am always greatful for insights and seeing how my words are pictured in other readers mind!! – bgw
LikeLiked by 1 person