in the dark life of days you bore <br />the slow born breath was never blind; <br />yesterdays trust haunts the picture of morning. <br />if a hallowed perfume decays every secret hour, <br />why should the longings of a fool for opened windows <br />make god linger on as our prisoner- <br />when desires can't embrace one star at night, <br />all our questions lie broken, bleeding out time. <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />Dec.28 2009<br /><br />Patti Masterman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/in-the-dark-life-of-days-you-bore/
