Treasure Island

G.R. Gaus

(April 11 1950 / St. Louis)

December Midnight


Winter's day has seen its last,
The clocks are winding down,
O're the hills a shadow's cast,
Lamenting; the lonely sound.

Desolation again and again,
The chair it rocks the seconds,
Gazing through a dirty pane,
Upon emptiness that beckons.

Counting years, long foregone,
Empty home's, a living tomb,
Distant friends, all passed on,
Daylight; moves room to room.

A tear dried track upon the cheek,
Fond memories burn the mind,
Once youth, now feeble and weak,
All things; must pass with time.

Darkness falls gently o're the land,
A cold body embraced by the bed,
Hourglass empty's, last grain of sand,
Opened book, will lie unread.

Ashes to ashes, and dust to dust,
A calm settles through the home,
Even new metal shall turn to rust,
Our demise we must face alone.

Epitaph

Choose; this day, with whom you wish to be,
Choose wisely of now, through your eternity.

Submitted: Monday, May 07, 2012

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

No matter our age, we are always aware of the time ticking slowly towards the inevitable…

Comments about this poem (December Midnight by G.R. Gaus )

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  • Heather Wilson (5/7/2012 11:51:00 AM)

    That was a true life, also dare I say death poem, that we all have a time limit, the end we must face alone, so well written (Report) Reply

Read all 2 comments »

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