gone

pages drift by
a recalled moment followed by another
and the ink is almost gone
and I can feel the dawn coming in
without a touch of mean coming all night long
you must really be gone
and I can feel the dawn coming in
without a touch if mean all night long
you must really be gone
as the venom seeps away
from the poisoning of our hour
you recoil in your money and seem unharmed
but you are distraught
the capitol letter doesn’t matter
and everyone in your head
will tell you something different
as the orange pink sunset
gradually casts the shadows back
on the trees that shed their leaves
as its last rays
crest the sky into universal theory
even exuberant color can’t match the words
said with feeling
sun beam shining off your atmospheric aura
and I can feel the dawn coming in
and a touch of mean all night long
you must really be gone…

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About jaybeasley2

a writer, a painter, a poet, a wordsmith
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