a Poem by Raquel Swann

The Sun drifts under the horizon

daylight tires, relinquishing to night.

it’s the third full moon, at midnight

time bends its knees to a crawl,

crickets outside this lonely balcony

chirp songs of sadness

remorse,

regret,

Was I wrong?

Were you wrong?

Do such things even matter any more?

In a passing memory I recall all the good

Never the bad.

do you still think of me?

Or has hatred erased the recordings?

am I a blemish on a long list of heartaches?

hidden messages on a box

to silence on a moonlit night.