Truths faced, renew.
🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴
He reaps at dusk
In October's field
Gathers not wheat
But the murmurs
Of fallen leaves.
🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴
In a basket
Of bones and woes
He puts broken vows,
Truths
Memories--
Reaped Without thought.
For decades.
🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴
On Hallowed Eve
A muted whisper,
Soft,
Thought long placed deep
The soil.
But the grown corn
Have ears that hear
And minds
To recall.
🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴
The reaper halts.
Turns.
A face.
Smiling.
Yet pained.
With guilt
In looking glass.
🦴🍗🦴🍗🦴🍗🦴🍗🦴🍗🦴🍗🦴🍗🦴🍗🦴🍗🦴🍗🦴
He strides
Leaves the field
Basket empty
Skeletal Soul--
Self--
Heart--
Renewed.
🍗🍗🍗🍗🍗🍗🍗🍗🍗🍗🍗🍗🍗🍗🍗🍗🍗🍗🍗🍗🍗
Original poem by Michelle Liew Tsui-Lin AI tags are coincidental.
For Vocal's Harvest of Memory challenge
About the Creator
Michelle Liew Tsui-Lin
Hi, i am an English Language teacher cum freelance writer with a taste for pets, prose and poetry. When I'm not writing my heart out, I'm playing with my three dogs, Zorra, Cloudy and Snowball.
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