…of endings

Adrift in the circle of time after all is lost
tangled in a web of shadows
what torments me whispers and echoes
butterflies driftin the slim space between darkness and light
their ephemeral wings caressing the pages of memory
always fluttering out of reach
haunted by words unspoken
the wind carries you back to me
a brief interlude of both torment and joy
feeding the flames of loss and my unsated longing
my melancholy dreams, their powdered colours
still lingering up on my palms
my tapestry of hope is fraying
your heart now distant, a wilderness in your wake
the last rose is now fading
petals falling to ground, without so much as a sound
the unexpected silence of endings
© Ann Bagnall