Relics of the lost

Scales of gray spill over aging hours of a waning day

Descending clouds, blur, a fading edge of realities photograph

Smoky ash colored fog leaves grainy images in a wintry feel of time

In mist of the eye the world dissolves, blindness falls

A memory folded to be put away, bent corners of another day

Deteriorated bits of today, the past long missed, now so tenderly kissed

To be stored, till tomorrow's dawn, in a dusty drawer

Where only the mind has the key

Reviews

[carl]

" the past long missed, now tenderly kissed "- eloquent lines (my response simply stated... ain't that the truth ) I think perhaps there comes an age when this truth is probably known by all but not until you are close enough to have a vision of yourself as a relic of the past. First four lines paint a physical portrait of the inner reality of the last four - nicely penned -carl

[Soren]

Thank you Carl your words mean a great deal and are highly valued

[Dylan Macadham]

A starkly poignant and beautiful write. A day fading in black&white, longing for fresh yesterdays. I can identify.

[Soren]

Thank you Dylan for the read and most kind words of support that are most appreciated