31 Aug 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Poetry, No Comments.

Poem 052 The morning passed

The morning passed, like strangers on the road, out that same window, I watched the rain roll down, a distorted view
It reminded me, of yesterday’s tears, how the years, have passed away

As if in a single day, I got caught up in the stream, I’ve seemed, to capture the words,
but I can’t remember, the faces, Just traces, of yesterday’s dream

Looking back, I see the reflection of the face, frozen, like those many framed windows of the past
Only a stranger looking back, through the cracks, of myself

A fool, obedient to a vision, from behind the window, watching, a changing world that’s not my own
Only the birds, I hear sing, about such things, how they’ll never be alone