The Word I Never Spoke
On Regret That Endures
The word I never spoke still waits for me,
it lingers heavy where the silence grows.
The branches tremble with its memory.
🍂
Your shadow passes underneath the tree,
your voice dissolves where only twilight knows.
The word I never spoke still waits for me.
🍂
The river bears it to the endless sea,
its current chants the grief the water sows.
The branches tremble with its memory.
🍂
The dusk returns where dawn refused to be,
the wind recites what only absence shows.
The word I never spoke still waits for me.
🍂
I walk in fields that echo endlessly,
the soil recalls, the root of sorrow knows.
The branches tremble with its memory.
🍂
So every night I kneel where none can see,
and gather silence from the earth below.
The word I never spoke still waits for me,
the branches tremble with its memory.
About the Creator
Rebecca A Hyde Gonzales
I love to write. I have a deep love for words and language; a budding philologist (a late bloomer according to my father). I have been fascinated with the construction of sentences and how meaning is derived from the order of words.
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