The sun didn’t disappear
it just stopped reaching here.
The same light sits
on the same corner of the floor.
Nothing moves unless I do,
and even then it settles,
back as if I never touched it.
The air holds its breath,
the sound is borrowed,
but somewhere, things are changing
even if I’ll never see it.
s.g.
xo,
Sheridan Guerrette
The Official Poetry Collection of WSS
