Ephemeral Love
Man dressed in black
Holding high and tight
His scythe.
Teasing me
When I pass or
-maybe gaze at me a while-
saving me for last.
Warm eastern dawn emits
light and heat, then fall
into arms of ablaze horizon
In the distance sits
moon's dim light along
side the lone star, acting
like a hundred lights.
Tired love,
no other
awaits me.
Should I love through
more repeating hours or is
love a constant farewell?
Almedia S Knight
November 22,2009
poem by Almedia Knight Oliver
Added by Poetry Lover
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