HOURS
Once, the nights
Were a perfect length.
The days,
The right number of hours.
Now, the nights last
Until a week on Monday,
And the days fade away
Fast as the scent of flowers.
But not always.
© 2020 Gwen Grant.
HOURS
Once, the nights
Were a perfect length.
The days,
The right number of hours.
Now, the nights last
Until a week on Monday,
And the days fade away
Fast as the scent of flowers.
But not always.
© 2020 Gwen Grant.
Poems by Gwen Grant 