1906
Gleams fall through the window
dwindling, they come.
Summer nights are longer
but the times have gone.
Is there a difference between
sun rise and set?
The darker days could write chapters
living in the shadows of nominal
we forget.
But my eyes are wide
they’re open and deep.
In an arms race for power
the future sleeps.
Until reparations are paid
pull me down.
Through all the ephemeral
elations we made
it pulls us down.
As the gleams fade out
I won’t speak aloud.
Lost somewhere amongst
the stars I drift
tumbling in silence in some sort
of direction I list.
It pulls me down.
Onto the cobbled pavement
where once I shared a kiss
pull me down.
Jordan Baker
2014
thejordbaker 