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Horace May
Poems
Dec 2014
Ghost of The Stairwell
For each moment I see you, I life for.
Each moment seen, I lose track
Something that could be done, not.
Sight of you too focused on.
To see you and you to see me.
Around you everything halts.
Like raindrops in stop motion.
Known it is profound and beautiful.
I noticed i always ended being a ghost of the stairwell with her, things i wanted
to say and do but the moment already passed.
12/2/2014
Written by
Horace May
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