Desiccated

She was not in the cradle of her yesterday

Not in the rocking chair of the present,

Having taken her troubles to a balmy field

She collapsed, at the end.

Not here in the darkened boughs of dawn

Did the transports of the tomorrow enliven her,

And the restless musings of the then and the now

Were all too far away in the stillness.

Amidst the blowing draughts, she sighed

And waited for a moment with the shadows,

Then as a leaf fell to the earth and settled

She left, stealing all away.

The lighted home from whence she had fled

Dared not miss her for a moment,

While the abode she might have soon arrived at

Would not be watching for her footsteps.

For, just like the fog that had enveloped

The environs of her departure

She brought forth only a touch of mild moisture

That would always, and ever, be unfelt in the sunlight.

Friday, March 19, 2010