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One Day I Knew You
August 9, 2011
Someday
The flies will chase your voice
Through burning fields that crumble to ash
And blow in wind,
Suffocating young lungs
That gasp for hope.
Sometime
My hand will reach to you,
Grasping at thin air,
Pulling back empty nothingness,
For your voice has changed;
Its colors long faded away.
Today
You are vivid.
Stark blues mix with bold yellow,
But your reds are fading,
And soon they will wash away like the flies.’
Tomorrow…
© Tom M., Philadelphia, PA
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