New Year Old Wishes
she sits alone in her moonlit room
outcast, as if from society
a shadow mimics her moves
twigs beneath the breeze
shake like fingers
grasping
at nothingness
she hears footsteps
falling soft
yet quick
like strokes
on a keyboard
pressing on
as if echoes
in her head
resurrect old wishes
of a hidden muse
that once whispered
louder than the bellows
of january's cold wind
yet silence falls
like shadows
beneath the crimson rise
of dawn
Copyright © Sandra Adams | Year Posted 2025
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