…will still return to you

The last fires of the day
are sinking into the embrace of the horizon
in which my soul’s reflection plays
winds sweep by with mournful sighs
unquiet leaves fluttering, flightless and falling
from a tree whose arms are now empty
dying stars, flames extinguished
as the tide is descending
against the moons’ pull
the fates may take you far away
but as the pebbles
washed to the sea
you will once again, return to me
just as my restless soul
in time, will still return to you
© Ann Bagnall