Tuesday, March 4, 2014

End of the Day (Poem 337)

At the end of the day, 
when the bare trees 
stand in silhouette 
against the gray sky, 
I look over my shoulder 
and see you 
wandering up to me. 

At the end of the day, 
when the sun is setting 
into a sparkling pool 
of rose and gold, 
I look to my right
and see you 
standing next to me.

At the end of the day, 
when a spray of stars 
is softly veiled by 
a thin layer of clouds, and 
the moon little more 
than a gathering glow 
at the edge of the horizon, 
I look ahead 
and see you 
patiently waiting for me.

(c) 2014, by Hannah Six