midas hour. A Poem by Joanna Magill

through the dirt-streaked pane
i watch the midas hour
transform our fractured world into gold.the sky erupts in vibrant pink
and crescendos into fragments of violet
as murmurations pulsate across the canvas
and the world falls into night.

i observe this wonder with
a frame of glass between me
and what was once palpable.
now touch is as a distant dream
and i long to feel the grass between my toes.

22 year old languages student and writer from County Down. You can find more of my work at https://thehysteriacollective.com/author/joannalmagill/

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