Rolling Days

The day is done and passing by.

The sun has rolled beyond the roots of the trees.

The counter-balance moon rides up,

Fragmented by the ink-sketched trees.

It has been a day of failures and victories,

Of old-old aches and new-old aches and

Exaltations and melancholies.

 

Risings and falls.

 

Risings and falls.

 

It has been a day of peace

Interleaved with threads of fear and anger and frustration,

Like my old blue shirt has a few old rips patched with old black thread.

 

The day passes and the night passes.

The moon rides down and the sun rolls up.

New old days and old new days.

The hours count off and the minutes count off.

Then…

 

The day is done and passing by…

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4 thoughts on “Rolling Days

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