Voices linger
Between the last glimmers
Of a sun becoming memory.
Time shifts
In whispers, soft as feathers,
Carried by the evening breeze.
Shadows stretch
Along paths untaken,
Each step echoing
A past gently erasing itself.
Beneath the silence,
An old truth hums:
Life, in its essence,
Is but a collection of
moments.
Here, in this gathering dusk,
The world holds its breath.