Miraquill
When the sun dips below the horizon
My eyes begin to fail
I see only but another day
Lurking behind the moon that spills
Silver wisps of hope and dreams
I heat them up within my palms
Which lie frozen at my feet
Yet they come alive
Like tiny fireflies
Luminous fleeting and fluttery
Gently nudging me guiding me
Towards horizons which then
Don't seem as barren as ashen
As I find the depths of my heart
©reethewriter
#daysixtyonepoem
1 posts-
reethewriter
54w
Read MoreHow so amusing is the realization that what I see as incomparable incomprehensible is a pain I share with a million souls.
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