Like smooth edged stones
my flowers slow to fade
in the moment before the fall
a conscious turning
toward what remains sacred
even when everything seems broken
ashes back to the sea
at the whim of twilight
back to the amber, we all must fall
the unspeakable burden
no appeal for grace
brief intervals of beauty
clinging to the sky
broken shards before the flight
behind the blank façade
the silken night
and the deep chasms of life
©Ann Bagnall
