SEVEN YEARS

The dripping tap
Keeps steady pace
The chair back keeps
Perfumed lace in place
The monotony of
A ticking clock
Your exit swift
No time to stop.

Suprising how
Years wiped away
No pleading speech
Or asking you to stay
Time it deemed
The end had come
A day of light
The night begun.

Now in twilight
A quiet room
That contemplates
The watching moon
Its rays to touch
The wooden floor
Where your footsteps
Walked before.