Empty Glasses

Empty glasses
on a blank table
the dust has swept the
crystal depths

Soft lips 
melted on their skin before the rainfall
Timed has weaved its silken web
over the smooth surface

She sighed before the rain
and in anger he threw
one glass to the floor
and left the pieces
for her bare feet

Now they sleep
and wishes rests 
on their edges
waiting in vain
to be saved.. 

1997 © Ingvild Gregersen

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