The Last Good-Bye
Disregard September’s lasting day, its simplicity long foretold,
As the sound of summer has past us by, into the crisp and radiant fall;
Come hold this mirror to a ray of light, and pass the moment on,
When in the hint of a calming breeze, is held the lost good-bye
Forever leaves of a brighter shade have fallen from there boughs,
While overhead October waits to softly steal by;
For opportunities are gone to soon, and change as mornings past
Like the worth of days, trapped in that sweet good-bye
Man senses November and its desolate hours in a fog of its own regret,
When the sun could not cool the night, nor the moon give warmth to day;
We are caught in the measure of simple words, tied to hope and wonder
That speaks of a last good-bye
Wrapped tight in the cold of December, bound to the rhythm of life,
Gone to solitudes isolation and the sadness of that forgotten farewell,
Sacrificed to the wind that winter holds, bound to a memory past
Intent to hear of our last good-bye
Copyright © Mark Norton | Year Posted 2013
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