Echos

poem

Come sweet slumbering darkness; Enfold me in thy purple cloak.

And dreams like waves upon waves, crashing onto the shores of my remembrance.

Thoughts of you rising and falling like the tide.

Our children running and playing at the water's edge, with those memories like playthings that they chase wildly like rabid dogs upon the hunt; Hunting, always hunting.

Those precious times, so near, just a fingers breadth to touch but yet worlds away.

I can hear them sometimes, standing upon those shores, but they are far, far away from me.

Like the last star of Autumn's night, fading into the winter's pale morning mist.