Falling (Still Clinging To The Moment)


Falling

without a resting place

A clock ticks

The fire and I are dying

Each a slow death

The tide turns

Butterflies of memories

Flow over me

In the shallows time drifts

In relentless silence

A sudden movement

The shadow in the mirror

I think it’s me

Still clinging to the moment

©Ann Bagnall

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