Out of Steam – a poem about loss

The birds ran out of song that day,
When it finally came to an end.
We pushed so hard for that final scene,
Our fight now dormant, fatigued and asleep in our hearts.

The trees stopped gently swaying that day,
When they saw us embrace so tight, tears flowing .
A once distant reality when first met,
We now avoid contact, through fear of our smouldering embers.

The park fell silent that day,
As dogs dropped sticks and sat with heads angled.
I wish we weren’t so brave,
And for the last time we release our touching fingertips, arms fall lifeless.

The world got cancelled that day,
Buses, trains and planes all grounded.
They hoped to stop the departure,
But unannounced the wind blew and our footprints were gone.

All the birds could do is fly silent,
And watched, as the leaves gently dispatched.
As the dogs lay down and cried,
It felt right that nothing would run on time again.

2019 COPYRIGHT Pedro Bat Poet

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