Silver Sun.

Reflecting off my watch
I took a silver sun
for a walk around my room
until it touched your picture,
and for that precious moment
I remembered you
just the way you were
before seven lonely years
dropped like a velvet curtain
between our separate lives.

But last night I dreamt that you
sat alone by a window
somewhere in New York,
and that the declining August sun
touched the wall above your head
with a brilliant silver halo.

And a warm tear on your cheek
glinted like a pool of glass.


Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
August 17th. 2016.