Ad Infinitum

We don’t talk about the dark places

the empty spaces that eat our souls,

nor wallow in the mire of lost desire.

There’s no reversing the hands of time,

ever forward, no rewind.

If we stop, we’re left behind.

 

In this cycle, no surprises

the sun sinks down, the new moon rises.

We both knew all good things must end.

Wishful thinking notwithstanding,

we can’t dismiss the understanding

that there’s no going back again.

 

While shadows envelop these days,

I seek my hope inside the rays

that filter through the rain and mist;

and turning back against the night

impeach the darkness to desist—

yet as I walk this finite plain,

 I trust that we will meet again

© Ginny Brannan 2022