–In the middle of a restless night,
the moonlight crashing;
on, through, dissipating in –
the window’s pane, the glass,
into the moments of the past.
The wrestling of the body
the mind writhing in attempts
to extricate and mount all memories
remaining of moments exposed
———-now displaced.
The etchings, now time worn
vaguely recollect life, some times
a lifetime, some times simply
brief breaths held so long
nothing remained but laughter.
In the night’s breeze, in its
debris
what remains tumbles about,
reminding etchings of origins
and whispering of a possibility
that has long been spent.