Day Twenty-six

Time

Going straight into metaphor tonight because I've been writing a feature all day and need to work with shadows for a while. Prizes if you tell me what it's about?!


Shadows and Fog

Sometimes I want to catch
it - that butterfly behind the glass.
Too fragile to really grasp it but
too frightened to let it pass.
That train that travels in the
night. That sound that
comforts while I sleep.

Sometimes I can't stand that wail - that slices
through the night. The whistle, ghosts and
shadows seem to taunt and tease - foresee.
But I am blind to other,
wet behind the ears.

And then I remind myself - I don't need
to hold on tight. If I let go, go with it - the
day can kill the night.

Then it washes like the surf on
a sunny August day. And nothing can
stop the feeling of swelling in
my chest. The fog clears, shadows
fly and here I am - cut open and
brazen to my bones.