missive
shadows spread in the fading sun
behind a high-walled doorway,
obscuring the chiselled features
of a forgotten life carved into stone;
daylight gropes for the living words
within, encoded like disremembered braille,
forsaking the encroaching future
of a coming night as yet to be told...
elPintor
Sun 26th Mar 2017 16:29
Good morning from the States. Thanks so much for reading and your comments. My imagination needs much tending to, at times, Paul. So I'm very glad to have the outlet, here, through writing. And, Nicola, I can recall grasping for that word, "forsaking" in trying to decide just exactly what the subject was doing...I'm happy that it connected with you.
Thanks, kindly, to the both of you,
elP