Photograph by Ingrid Mathews 

What makes a morning
Following goodbye
The indecisive
Grey blue
Blue grey
Sky of in between
Here nor there
Almosts 
And
Things that might have been
A slant of solemn sun
Peers through
The sponge of teary cloud
Wish
Wish for me
Though the dried leaf
Rattles
And the ground lacks life
And a chill hangs 
On every word
There is a glimmer
In the dying
A circling of hope
As other arms
Reach out with longing
Wanting for you
Waiting for you
All these days




Sara Mathews     January 2018