Blue Wave
Heat on the door, windows airless,
Obsessive heat.
Inching blandness in sorrow soaked.
Prism of light spearing through our town
Filled with hope.
A lingering ghost stays on.
Hungry repetition, happened, been and gone.
So slowly, interest fading
To a daylight breaking
For that moment,
By a candle bare,
On rosewood eyes you shine.
Copyright © Lily Radcliffe | Year Posted 2015
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