The Quiet Finale

Time to kiss away the muffled shadowland.

Time to carry my sandpaper voice underground.

Time to sleep where concrete angels tend to split necked flowers.

Time to be baptised under hearty rain spells.

Time to dial down fears and give birth to redemption.

Thanks to those who gave ear and warm words to the paper heart sleeved muses.

I’m a long way from home, but I’m inching closer.

Time to set my aim towards the sun.

Time to go.