Image by Pixabay.com

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