subtext

I will not see another day.

My arms, heavy as stone,

embrace the hollow air;

if I lift them up,

as in a dance,

they will break and shatter

across the ground.

A shuffled step will have to do.

My sandals send puffs

of dust into the air.

Embers pulse within

the crumbling fire.

The others have fallen deeper

 into the wood trailing

laughter into moans.

The wind caresses my hair.

Dawn whispers her song

into night’s vanishing sky.