she walked ahead
breaking the darkness
leaving a shimmering trail
her golden footprints
meandering steadily around and over
scattered pieces of broken hope

when she was out of sight
a melody snaked around the trees
through the branches leaving
a silvery speckled trail to reach
the lost ears and guide them to her
all spirits would find their way home

when we awoke she was nowhere
not even a sound left to trace
but a fading memory like a dream
and we were safe

© zamantungwa

Day 2 | The Romantics
writing prompt from Allan Edgar Poe's 'The Dream'