The page is yellowed
and torn.

Tomorrow we'll dream
like ripples on a pond.

Watching the butterfly
as she beats her wings.

When the curtains are
closed,

your shadow becomes
the setting sun.

Seeing patterns everywhere,
Signs a constant following
Shadows cast fast so eerily
Upon ancient forests
Of wise old trees
Everything changes so quickly
Nothing stays the same for long
What is living when it’s all frozen
Constantly wishing for the thaw