It Will Come
Surely It will come
Like the sunset and the Sun
Like the moonight here and gone,
Woven shadows on your dress of snow
Haunted summers when skies ached with blue dreams turning through into evening rains,
Although we each were here or there or no
Real answer forever questioning
Alone without reason watching for some
Final frisson just to delay the lights switch off,
Behind ourselves we look aside still seeing nothing but the only thing from which the Night has grown,
Surely It will come.
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
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Written on 2017-08-18 at 12:37
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