At This Hour...

i stopped looking for the moment,
it is not here anymore
that moment with you
when you arrive and then when you are finally gone
without saying hello
without saying goodbye
and you left me
without the sound of the soft wind by the window
and then i look at the star
trying to figure out
the reason for distances
wanting to be logical about space and emptiness
when there is
none.

at this hour
i could be dead,
i could have wanted death,
but death is not mine
it is
yours.

run, run, do not sleep tonight,
chase the shadows of life
hold tight
to the fingers of the morrows
have faith
on what you've finally got,
tell me

what is it?

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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