The Stars
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The call comes late-
As it seemed destined to
The luxury of sleep is lost
For longer than tonight
We drive through the passage
Of one day to the next
Ghosts of clouds whisper across
The icy autumn moon
Between us lies
The silence of severed hope
Of unspoken memories
The planned birthday-
Less than a week away
Will now be for speeches
No one can yet give
The miles roll on
Time separates into a tomorrow
Where music is muted
Rivers are stilled
Darkness becomes comfort
What is true is what is remembered
I have heard
I remember the warmth of your welcome
The friends you found everywhere you went
The songs you composed
So effortlessly
The laughter we shared
The last time I saw you
I believe the spirits
Took you at night
So the stars could guide you home.
3/4/18
Copyright © Michelle Faulkner | Year Posted 2018
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