Ever Shifting Skies

Through my half open window

I catch the last of the light

The day is gently dying

Like the blossoms of spring

That once thrived

In the earthy scent of rain

Kissed softly

By the sun’s warming rays

Now languishing

As the seasons turn

Once again

The night swoops in

Like a dark dragon

On a cold wind

Rushing down

From lonely hills

And the pale moon

Spills its silver

Throwing shadows like pools

Of iridescent mercurial glass

Beneath its frozen gaze

And like the fluttering pages

Of my open book

Gently teased

By the breath of autumn

The years

Keep rolling by

And dreams are fading

Like ribbons of clouds

Torn asunder

In ever shifting skies

© Ann Bagnall 2014.