A deep sigh
Presses twilight
Ribboned flames
Of dying sun
Winter sky
Elopes with
Fading moments
Night has come.
A familiar echo
Past and present
Ripples bittersweet
Upon the air
The moon it has
A solemn face
The hour forgot
To comb its hair.
Ragged are
The memories
A falling deck
Of cards
The perfume fades
In silent rooms
Wrapped in solitude
Who cares ?
-
Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Offline) - Published: June 19th, 2026 02:29
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 32
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments4
Poetic memories in an almost dreamlike atmosphere it wafts its way through the air like a perfume. Nicely done
thanking you, always appreciated
You are most welcome
The line "Who cares?" hit me hardest. After all the beautiful imagery and fading memories, it feels like the speaker isn't really asking a question any longer but expressing a deep sense of being alone with those memories. It gives the ending a sense of heartbreak that will linger with the reader for a long time. 🕊️🙏
thanking you for read, always much appreciated friend
Most welcome, Norman 🙏🕊️
Anyone wearing perfume at that bus stop?! lol.
Norman, what a beautifully melancholic piece. The fading light, the worn memories, the stillness throughout…it all feels like an evening spent keeping company with the past. And that closing question leaves a lingering ache behind. Wonderful write, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
thanking you always very much appreciated
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.