Sheer Poetry

Waiting for Daylight

Ghosts from the past have long visited my dreams,
their rustlings reminiscent of empty winds through empty souls.
Through the years, I have made playmates of them.
Together, we have passed many a long hour,
waiting for daylight.
From the first hint of dusk,
until the darkest moment before dawn,
they are here with me.
Sometimes, I pretend to tell a joke,
they pretend to laugh,
and we all pretend that some false cheer
could somehow stop the darkness from overtaking us.
But as the night cloaks us in her thickest robes,
and the darkness comes alive around us,
our laughter stops.
Once again, my ghosts and I huddle together,
waiting for daylight.

~Leigh Ann Conselyea~