These days of melancholy
time seems like winter
pale and cold
and still, absolutely still
in the pale hues of morning
I feel like a whisper
silent, gone unnoticed
my dreams fleeing
like butterflies from a storm
their soft wings
silently beating
in time with my heart
circling the final shadows
of the night
bleeding into the dawning
and drifting away like a sigh
© Ann Bagnall
Annie's Poetry 