Proximity

It is near
Just off the horizon
Gently mocking
Its faceless features
Somehow bereft
Yet juxtaposed just so
And fading
Near enough to touch
If you were so inclined
A madness grasping
Clambering for purchase
The perfect daydream
Until it isn’t
A distraction so true
Amidst the mundane
But running out of time
Running out of breath
Begging for release
From desolation’s muse

It is near
Just off the horizon
But fading.

Sam