Mist
Thin white mist surrounds her like a shroud
Yet life beats within.
Her sadness wraps the world in a teardrop
Time hangs like a clock with no hands, is silent, never ends
We feel it not knowing why.
A collective sadness holds the world in an iron claw
Every breath we expel, the universe expands
Will we grow with it or go out with a bang
The way it began?
The lady in the mist watches. Waits…
©Anita Dawes
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