by Dan J. Mishko
In the tremulous roar of spinning earth,
still... the rays falls silent on noon sparked hills.
Too small to notice, the finite motion of stars,
too small to notice, the endless boundaries of love.
Just the tiniest glimmer of a gem-like reflection,
sparkling in black walls of night.
The happiness of your presence fades in dark light,
still, memories spawn in effusive dreams.
A distant laugh from a love soaked night,
echo's in the darkness from a 'too near' dream.