I listened
to the stars in spring hesitantly
then confidently
when I realised
that its melding tones were imbued no longer
by hues of grey.
Memory fades
and the aches that once seared so familiar
are now but the entrails
of a year that has sailed steadily away.
Apr 18, 2016
Apr 18, 2016 at 8:36 PM UTC
I listened
to the stars in spring hesitantly
then confidently
when I realised
that its melding tones were imbued no longer
by hues of grey.
Memory fades
and the aches that once seared so familiar
are now but the entrails
of a year that has sailed steadily away.
