A red scarf forgotten on a park bench
Waves crash against the shore, indifferent to time
A stray cat eyes the moon, its shadow slipping
The hum of a streetlight flickers like a half-forgotten song
Old books gather dust on a shelf, their stories sealed
A train whistle calls in the distance, a journey no one takes
A crumpled receipt, proof of a moment that’s already gone
Rain taps the window, a conversation with no reply
The sky bruises with sunset, then fades to black
A child laughs somewhere, their joy uncontainable
Leaves rustle, secrets shared between the earth and the wind
And all of it, everything, just keeps spinning.
©amsterdam
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