Fade

Willing that a simple thought

should speak in echoes

Descending beside memories

and be lovingly fed

Ever a mystery to swallow

Yet eager to dine

An argument has fluttered

Faintly in bitterness

Poor haunts lingering

beneath drifting eyes

Upon Autumn

as evening lamp

extinguishes its gleam

Children moving

beside a rattlesnake

that never saw

the dread

If regret should speak

and hope cannot

What has life worked

from us?

Dreaming is practiced

as golden days leave us

in the middle of a thought

to fade...