The last light, is still faintly smouldering
our love long faded into endless time
just one more forgotten promise
I fall to sorrow so easily now
the door of tears opens for me
the sound of each weeping leaf is pain
with nothing between us
I step into the mirror, where in the silence
sorrow is the cold glass
between our desperate hours
and in these gentle shadows
my flowers quietly cease to bloom
©Ann Bagnall
Annie's Poetry 