I walked through an empty lot
noticing the depression of time;
street lamps flickering within the subtle
breeze of the late evening.

My hands were numb from the cold and ash;
these pockets lost their warmth.
The sky forgot to welcome
the moon; it’s light lost behind
the indigo clouds.

Something touched my face, the moist
drops of condensation; the nighttime mist
upon this abrasive skin. The feeling
brought my lips towards a smile, because
someone new was at the horizon.

Published by David W. Jones

Writer. Artist. Sleepless Blogger. Wrestling junkie. Comic-Book Nerd. Every moment is a story View all posts by David W. Jones