Miss Sophie McCallum

A once moving image, becomes blurred with fright
and the static it burns, as the day does to night

a colourful vision, a dreamt picture
frame
it fades with the sky, never to be the
same

a clear rocky hill, seen breaking at
dawn
is clouded with moisture , and a mechanism
gone

a slow paced redemption, cant think further
why
a moments reflection, becomes hours gone
by

and mulling over sweet juice, would only turn it sour
as the rationale fails, and the panic holds the
power