My heart is breaking
as the slow beating wings
of awakening moths
scatter petals of dusk
across this dark forest
that never existed
but remembers me anyway
grief is a hallway of many doors
I opened each one
and named the shadows hope
only to watch them vanish
like you, now just a memory
and in the darkness
I am now spiralling
a vulnerable, wingless thing
learning how to fall with grace
© Ann Bagnall
Annie's Poetry 