poem submitted to "1465" poetry contest, Brian Strand, sponsor, 4/18/2026.
A hush drifts through the waking day, a quiet pulse that will not stay; it lingers where the shadows bend, a breath the morning tries to mend, soft echo of a fading ray. Moments rise, then slip away, unraveling in their tender sway~ yet still the whisper finds its end: a hush drifts through. The world repeats its small ballet, turning time in its own way; what’s lost may circle back again, arriving where it once had been~ a hush drifts through.
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