rory mcginley

before a tomorrow

nothing will come of this day
the first day without you
the first day where I cling to your memory
a day without your touch, your
voice with its mute fear
anticipation
a day without your stories

nothing will come of this day
my mind in suspension
hanging mid way between
your past
resisting time and
what it may bring
what it may forfeit
those moments I had
with you

what will come of this day
the day before a tomorrow
a void
what will come of this day when
it ends, ends
without you