Friday, October 13, 2006

Sunshine is just an illusion

Tapping sounds of bare feet,
Rustling against dry leaves -
Of the moments that once were.
Riddles woven in whispers,
Spoken up in reckless tones -
Silence cannot be more desired,
Than on a Sunday afternoon,
When memories play games -
Stranger than you've known.
Thoughts of gone by days,
Wrap around my fingers,
A slight shivering expression.
And my suntanned feet,
Look back at me, surprised,
For I rarely lay them still.
And here I was, reclining,
Both in the chair and in time,
Trying to recover lost hope,
Then as the sun went down,
And as the dusk approached,
A certain realization dawned -
Up on me, out of the breeze,
That sunshine is nothing but,
Just an illusion. An aftermath -
Of a nightful of passing dreams.


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