She didn’t walk a golden mile
or embrace a new found love
but wandered down the avenues
of a past long dead and gone.
or embrace a new found love
but wandered down the avenues
of a past long dead and gone.
Trees interlocked and canopied
her feeblemindedness
while the grass underfoot
gave way to barren ground
for ‘tis the feeble of mind
that must walk on hardened ground
until the dead and gone
sits on a burning pyre.
her feeblemindedness
while the grass underfoot
gave way to barren ground
for ‘tis the feeble of mind
that must walk on hardened ground
until the dead and gone
sits on a burning pyre.
She watches in the twilight
the flames of her repeats
and how the smoke encircles
a love not come again
to pull it closer, nearer, in
the flames of other things.
the flames of her repeats
and how the smoke encircles
a love not come again
to pull it closer, nearer, in
the flames of other things.
The heat melts composure
and she kneels by the fire
a woman paying homage
to the dead and gone.
and she kneels by the fire
a woman paying homage
to the dead and gone.
She doesn’t rise on steady feet;
there’s still a part of her long past
she would again repeat
but she knows, yes, she knows
ash is ash and can’t again
be more than it is!
there’s still a part of her long past
she would again repeat
but she knows, yes, she knows
ash is ash and can’t again
be more than it is!
Hello Helen. I find your poems amazing. I included your site in the amazing sites i had seen and read.
ReplyDeletetake care