This could be the last time

 

20170317_072237.jpg

 

 

Penultimate

 

How poignant it all looks

Today

The morning trembles

The clouds erupt

All gold and pinkish hues

Their swelling pride

Billows

Against a deep sky

Glass towers sparkle in the distance

Wires hum overhead

Even the street art seems somehow more

Harmonious

 

The train rattles over the river

As I count off all the sights

I won’t be seeing again

The number is ‘all’

I’d be a lot sadder about that

If I wasn’t so damned happy

At the thought of holding her

Without the tyranny of time

Leeching the moment.

 

 

Words and image are my own.

 

©2017

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