Empty Shadows

Where are we going
empty rushing shadows
who wants to be first
at the grave yard?

Better to step slowly
tiptoe through your day
time enough when you
claim your coffin
filled wit regret
for a life of squandered
precious memories.

Pink fog drifting across
sunrise sunbeams
I stop and watch
its tendrils caress
shadows lingering
shifting among the
half-asleep.

Mourning doves call to each other
bats snuggle upside down
ready to sleep as I start
my day, shaking
the night from
my hair matted
with slumber.

This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Share your thoughts if you wish.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s