Ruins of Things

by Bernie McCann

Living among ashes
and ruins of things
too broad to measure
too old to sting

Where houses stand silent
and rooms with a view
to a dull winter sun
are mirroring you

Who was this princess
who combed her long hair
on the edge of this bed
in the cold morning air?

With her heart in the balance
between passion and play
and her faith in the Living
wasting away

In twilight forever
in wintry scenes
now lost among ashes
and ruins of things

22-Jun-2003

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