Bric-a-Brac

At midnight
A flower blooms
Petals lifting
To the moon
Like a bird
Who sings her song
Sweetly, swiftly
For too long
Too long for
She’s out of breath
A kiss held on
‘Til her love’s spent
She is me
And me is I
And my eye sees me
Left behind
A heart not found
In fiction’s fact
Encased in glass
Like bric-à-brac

-Written July 3, 2012
as my life began to transition
from one season to the next

The sun must go down and the night prevail (for a time) before a new day dawns.

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