…keep rolling by

Through my half open window
I catch the last of the light
the day is gently dying
like the blossoms of spring
that once thrived
in the earthy scent of rain
kissed softly
by the sun’s warming rays
now languishing
as the seasons turn
once again

the night swoops in
like a dark dragon
on a cold wind
rushing down
from lonely hills
and the pale moon
spills its silver
throwing shadows like pools
of iridescent mercurial glass
beneath its frozen gaze

and like the fluttering pages
of my open book
gently teased
by the breath of autumn
the years
keep rolling by
and dreams are fading
like ribbons of clouds
torn asunder
in ever shifting skies
© Ann Bagnall