Tuesday, April 4, 2017


Golden is the light on your hair
In the glow of a candle
Golden are the shadows of the sky
At the end of the day
Broken are the dreams of the morning
As I wake to the emptiness
Golden is the pool of reflection
As the light fades away
Where are you going?
Take me with you when you leave...
Why can't I follow you?
What is there left to believe in?

Alison Day