From vows to haunt
A poem of mourning
Once, the cuboid closes
I’ll stand alone
just holding roses.
---
The misty air, of fresh soil’s scent
a patch of grass
the crow’s descent.
---
A shadow as wide, as light can travel
feels like a sharp calamus
shot as an arrow.
---
Salty moisture, downs my lips
as painful as the calluses
on my finger tips.
---
As the crowds depart, with bleeding hearts
I think of me
my change of heart.
---
My moisture mask, turns into air
my lips wake up
so does despair.
---
Alone at last, my soul proclaims
and I start dancing
without Loraine.
---
Fragrant flower, you fill the air
I am not alone
I sense you there.
---
Forever!
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Thanks for reading
About the Creator
G. A. Botero
I have a million bad ideas, until a good one surfaces. Poetry, short stories, essays.
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More stories from G. A. Botero and writers in Poets and other communities.
Standing Still
There are very few moments in life where time truly stands still. When your breath is taken from your chest and your body hangs weightless in that moment. Just long enough for it to stay with you from that day onwards. Deep in the red sands of the Australian Outback, I found that moment and clung to it forever.
By Kevin McLaughlin7 days ago in Wander
Comments (2)
There is such isolation in grieving, even though it's all about connection.
This was so poignantly beautiful! Loved both your poem and photo!