Out of Time

Are we just too late? Has our ship sailed to another destination?
I scan the horizon and see the fading remnants of it steam trail.
Did it just never really begin? Has that train left the station?
I hear the fading echos of it’s lonely call as it passes beyond view.

I reach out to touch you. To feel you. To hold you,
But all I get is anachronistic affection.
Your embrace feels like a holographic hug of programmed response,
Leaving me weighted and wanting as I wander. To ponder this space.

Is that the setting sun or just my eyes closing one final time?
Hoping that memories and dreams both fade in the grey of forever,
I’ll let those waters rise and cover me in silent sorrow
As I watch my empty, outstretched hand grasping only at ghosts.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s