A homeless moon lingers over the town.
I linger with it, both of us bracing
for single combat with oblivion
at the crossroads where silence is spoken.
I was interrogated once again
during the night but betrayed only myself.
I want to believe in the future
and in life’s rosy emptiness,
but shadows block my imagination
as if someone has taken my feelings
and inside me is an open grave.
Under this canvas of tears grown cold
I walk on and on, waiting for the dawn.
Tomorrow I will long for the dark.
Published in Ink, Sweat & Tears
S.C. Flynn 