Literature
Contemplation
In the small, dark hours
when quiet minds repose,
my restive thoughts
return to you.
The sky lies shrouded
in dark, despondent clouds,
bruised and shedding
their midnight tears.
My mind wanders back
to other, clearer skies,
when silent stars pricked
the velvet dark.
Then you and I walked
both heedless of the time,
and each one reveled in
the comp'ny of a friend.
