Parting Ways
Parting Ways
On the dulled edge of day and night
The faint moon rising in the sky
In shadows of the fading light
Along the footpath we would go,
Passing the birch tree’s silver boughs
Where the wild spindle berry grow.
Where moss covered trees cast their shade,
Where the watchful owl silent sat
Night creatures stirring in the glade.
Hand in hand we went on our way,
As the clock ticked on darkened hours
Along that path we would not stay
When that approaching day was born,
As the first waking song bird sang
We would part on that stirring morn.
10/23/2020
For Tercet Contest by Constance La France
Copyright © Barry Stebbings | Year Posted 2020
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