Once at 6am
her face infused my morning
staring long, dressed as elegant as ever,
but angry with life.
Her words echoed through transience,
on this path to no avail,
she follows my wherever went.
“Hey you” (she whispers)…..I smile in refrain,
she speaks from poetry heavens,
“Hi” I whisper in quiet response.
I know she stands, I know she falls,
I can ne’er catch her as she’s never here,
I can only ever comfort her and lead her to the smile she gave me.
“Hey You” (I whisper)….
©Nick Hawkins, all poetry rights reserved 31/3/11.