Quadrille 4: Shadows fall


Shadows fall

against the gold

of the sunny wall.

By the fire, tales are told

when silence sleeps,

and someone weeps.

Bird sings a tune,

fills the tree with song,

its berries strewn.

These things are true,

like the smiling face

that isn’t you.


Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

4 thoughts on “Quadrille 4: Shadows fall”

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