The day folds into itself
Emitting but a murmur,
A slight reaction
Undefined in true form,
So gutless
It wrenches
This fading light.
Life speeds past,
Blurring into an endless
Blend of green,
This flustered rush
Not pausing to breathe,
So it is broken,
A breathless pause.
Closing upon itself,
This day folds.
Copyright Vickie Johnstone
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