It’s this part that gets me -
the sun going down.
Evening’s descent.
The dark, really,
going into the dark,
unwillingly.
Tea going cold,
and tasting of nothing.
Banks of snowdrops,
gone in a blink.
I tuck two into this book.
Later, I’ll take a look.
Later, when I’m in need
of light,
and it turns out
maybe the poet was right.
© Shaista Tayabali, 2020
Dverse Poets Open Link Night
