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Rated: E · Poetry · Experience · #1756371
From a collection written a decade ago. Such a beautiful time and place to have been.
I remember the solitary visitor
that cold fall night
moonlight and falling stars,
thinking myself alone.

Just after midnight
when I recall hearing,
Footsteps on a frost,
Sometimes coming towards,
other times away.

Vision of one moon no longer alone,
the universe not the center,
the start nor the end.
And all remains fluid,
all flowing slowly away.

A wordless conversation
with an invisible companion.
Thoughts longed to share,
but the page remains empty,
the words aren't there.
© Copyright 2011 The Old Kazoo Maker (aswegooldman at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1756371-There-Are-No-Words