Sunday, March 11, 2007

remains of the day

I've often stood upon this porch
As the day breathes its last,
And watched a bird fly home,
And a leaf fall.
And felt burden'd as the fall'ng leaf,
Heavy with emptiness,
As the ghostly train of years gone by,
Snatches away yet one more day.
In a twilight corner of my heart
Time is mourned constantly.

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