Another day, and they may be short
in number coming, but vast are they
in the gaze I turn to the years that
were, when among fallen leaves on
autumn days I was happy and came
back not to an empty house.
Vast are those brittle days, and short
were they and the years, in the gaze
from evening's hill, where light
dwindles and never grows again.
02.09.2023
#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse
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