Losing Days
P
Peter S. Quinn
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Where the day means something more
Surroundings walls of thing we do
Anything that is not insecure
With its lights that gives on through
Falling days with all their pieces
Rising streams of life and learning
With the sounds that the ears pleases
And turning their diminishing to yearning
Anything that is not all
But some way through new time
When it is for you to fall
In your living up to times prime
With the days that go in waiting
Black holes barely feeling sun
On their role they are debating
When there is still time to run
Losing days to the darkish night
On their ways to their nothingness
When moment's fall in their light
In with only shadow's caresses
Mistaking in its open reaching
Flying across the midnight sky
In their way and tincture bleaching
Without asking questions why
Giving me longtime running night
In their conquer of point to come
With each their thought of out of sight
Where every obstacle of dim is from
With nothing turning or be taking into
Only misguided of open reaching
When the day's light is gone on through
In the hours of giving and bleaching
(from my album: Something More)
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