Poetry Clips – One Hour Left (Seasons Come And Ages Pass)


One hour left

What we have

Is passing slowly

Like a walk

In a dream

Tomorrow

Is never promised

Seasons come

Ages pass

I want to look

Once more

Into your eyes

I am slipping

Into dreams

Beyond reach

I hear a whisper

On the wind

It calls to me

© Ann Bagnall

Inspired by a writing prompt on Twitter from @FromOneLine

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