Five O’Clock Sun (a poem)

Five O’Clock Sun Video

Five O’Clock Sun

I am startled
By voices raised,
Angels, reaching
Spires of my regret,
Cries like doves,
Flutter in shadows met,
Sunlight shyly peeks,
Through dusty
Window streaks
Of my memories,
Not as clear now
As they were.
Words we said,
Drifting away,
Your image, too
Blurred to hate,
I resist an itch
To miss you in
Empty places,
Where loneliness
Is a virtue and
A gentler fate,
I am but one,
Beholden to none,
Tired angels will
Continue to sing,
Doves will still come,
And regret is only
A reflection in the
Five o'clock sun.|

Joan Wiley

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