The days are long, hot, and maddening,
the nights cloudy, starless, and sultry.
Sleep withheld behind a heavy dark veil.
Spirit weary in its empty aloneness.

Fleeting visions from happier times,
refuse to project, on the silver screen within.
Joy from dust-covered chapters, dissolves in decay,
upon the sagging shelves of remembrance.

Sands of time, still themselves,
suspended midstream in journey.
Between the halves of the hourglass,
the endless moment lingers long.

Where are the views from yesteryear?
Your eyes, like a sweet soft song.
The notes that filled my very being,
while my heart would drum along.

Submerged beneath this endless shadow,
I thrash empty arms with frantic fervor.
Touching only vacant memories,
for you’re no longer here.


Amanda Graham

Amanda Graham

Editor at NY Literary Magazine
Amanda holds an M.A. in History. She loves well-written poetry and romance novels. Amanda has 2 cats and a 3-year-old son.
Amanda Graham