For Mag244 – Passing Time,

Daylight drives
The delightful linger
Of last Night’s Dreams
Down deserted streets.

The memories of lost days
Are all that we have left,
Distorted by the Edge of Now,
As it pales
Into the grey haze
Of accreting history

Here, on the edge of
Reality is a sense
Of treading water,
Of marking time
Of trawling a parched,
Bland land, Of War
And peace, and silence
And of Endings

They say this
Is what it is:

Waiting for the delight
Of coming Night
We pine for the relief
Of New Dreams-
In saecula saeculorum