My reflection's in the window,
floating softly in the night,
beneath the rain in torrents pounding,
dressed in wanning silver light.
And beneath the sky's disquiet
gliding on a worried breeze,
a shadow in the window
lurks beneath the sculptured eaves.
And the days beneath us fallen,
lie in puddles on the street,
while the night offers its solace
from the fevers of my dreams.
So you've come.
Will you take from me
this strange affliction,
Days don't follow nights like these.
The darkness just wilts away,
and the sky's left hanging overhead
clad in the rags of yesterday.
But I won't mourn the future lost
to the all-consuming gray.
And I'll gaze into the past
when I fall with the rain.
Copyright 2009 by Dan Bach.