… possessing nothing I am not possessed

The last dead leaves
are burnt as winter nears
their fiery funeral smoulders out
until smothered
in extinction’s final doubt

I am moved more easily now
the wind brushes by me
quiet whispers
one more forgotten promise
the sound of each and every leaf is pain

the door of tears is open
and I am fragile as a spring blossom
so soon our separation
my heart is as a drop of water in a storm
like the struggle against the sea

who taught the swallows
to make so light of parting?

as you leave
the gentle breeze goes too
in the dying night
like a dying leaf
it finally returns to rest

empty verandas
that echo
with unheard footsteps
feel suddenly hollow
a gentle sorrow
tender souls so far apart
like wafting silks
this floating life

where shall my soul
alight at last?

in time we shall find a place
the dreams of the night
fade with the sunlight
gone like morning clouds
by too many lonesome miles

the wrinkles of the coverlet
the last of the blossoms
the down of willow flowers
come floating down

desiring less and less
possessing nothing
I am not possessed
all down the years
all that the mind forgets
are colours in the mist now

yet still
still, I am drawn
to ever search for you
upon the endless
shores of dreams

© Ann Bagnall

** A poem from my book ‘I Am The Mirror Empty Without You’ published on Amazon**