An Empty Bench
A midwinter night
Empty of stars
Frost sparkles on black rooftops
On the cobblestone streets below
The dark settles deep within
In this empty moment in time
He stands alone
The pain in his eyes
Deeper than the glassy pond
He stares with sadness
At an empty bench
And wonders
At the frigid touch
Of the cruel wind
That seems to steal his breath
And slow his thoughts
In this long, dark exile
It seems he dies a little
With every brittle leaf
As it falls
Forever fading
From this life
He feels his aching, lonely heart
Still beating
Yet frozen with his loss
He feels the night is ever falling
Like the silent drifts of snow
Now blowing in
And he sighs
Deep and shuddering
And drags his gaze
From the empty bench
Shrugs his shoulders
Against the cold
And slowly
Turns away
As the snow
Like ashes
Covers his steps
© Ann Bagnall 2014.
I really love your work Annie♡
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Thank you for your lovely comments! I’m so glad you enjoy your visits 🙂
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Stunning words, accompanied by a beautiful photo
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Thanks 🙂
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