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Time Moves On

A poem about darknes and night and loneliness.

Time Moves On

The night is crisp.
But it is not cold, for music goes through the air and warms it.

The walks themselves are silent.
Yet lovers keep them company.

A voice is heard.
It's the voice of a brave soul calling to a wistful world.

A few find themselves alone.
But when they discover it they run to join a crowd.

The darkness whispers.
But the groups and their lights try to drown it out.

The bell is heard pealing out the hour.
Time moves on.
This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © Copyright 2012, 2013 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017 by Cal Erickson, aka frogprince

Posted with permission at

All other rights reserved.

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