Wednesday, February 8, 2023

Leaving, a poem



Day follows day until that day

I must leave; it grows closer

with each dawn, with each bird song,

with each poem I pack for my journey.


I have put the moon in my satchel

and as many stars as I can fit.

I have filled it with memories

of the sun on the tall viridian pines

of the hills and of you.

Give me a kiss and I shall slip

it in with all the rest before

day follows day and I say goodbye.

Stephen Brooke ©2023

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