Graveyard at Dawn
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| Photo by Megan Chang |
The morning came slipping by like a whisper shared between two of the
best of friends. The shadows slide away after the fading of the night
into the dawning of the first light filtering through the mists that
fill the cracks in the stones that stand sentinel between.
Will the ghost of a smile cross her lips?
Was this the reason I came here, was there something I thought
I would miss? Maybe my answer will shiver out of the empty spaces
as she walks along the fence line beside the resting places
until she pauses for a moment, beside the fence
I catch her eye before she looks away, when she looks back
I am but the shadow of my former self- not all there
like the space of the moment, I fade to black.
She shakes her head, not believing what she is seeing
did she notice my passing, or was she even there
time is fleeting, the hour is short, hardly a second to spare
its all important this question of being.
best of friends. The shadows slide away after the fading of the night
into the dawning of the first light filtering through the mists that
fill the cracks in the stones that stand sentinel between.
Will the ghost of a smile cross her lips?
Was this the reason I came here, was there something I thought
I would miss? Maybe my answer will shiver out of the empty spaces
as she walks along the fence line beside the resting places
until she pauses for a moment, beside the fence
I catch her eye before she looks away, when she looks back
I am but the shadow of my former self- not all there
like the space of the moment, I fade to black.
She shakes her head, not believing what she is seeing
did she notice my passing, or was she even there
time is fleeting, the hour is short, hardly a second to spare
its all important this question of being.
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