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  • barrywthall
    • Jun 25
    • 1 min read

Poems from 'Transcapes' Embers of the Day

Updated: Jun 28



THE EMBERS OF THE DAY


The end of this day

Looks like the beginning

Viewed through a mirror.

The thick edges of black-time

Fall into place naturally,

Then all sounds slowly cease.

The now crisped remnants of

Of vital hours

Seethe and crackle, exhausted

As the last embers

Spit away

To black.


(c) Barry Hall



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