Awareness and beauty in the passage of time

Silently the door of heaven
closes.
The night stops waiting.
The dawn still asleep.
The sun sleeps supine.
The sea lingers doubtfully.
The seagulls still sleepy
fly like ghosts.
The golden sand sticks to the feet of an old man.
The footprints, it seems, hide from others.
As if he wanted to leave
this confused land.

Remembers the past time
He fears the future time.
Then he sees among the rocks corroded by furious waves. A familiar flower.
He remembers when,
already a man
he had given it to his wife.
A sincere smile,
a tear, now falls on the face.

Antonio Petrucci
(2022 Poet)