Ribbons of dying
Catching in my throat the ashes of night
aching ribbons floating down around my face into the sky around me
as the floor reaches up and
the clouds cry
or not
Black ribbons and little bows unassembled
they can't be pumpkins anymore
curling heartbeats
not curling
not beating
season of death.
posted by Echo at 8:59 PM
4 Comments:
As with most poetry I read, my understanding is limited; but the sense of your words comes through to me. Sadness and longing. This for adrian too?
Finds no words, just a gesture, HUG
Thank you both muchly.
No this is not for Adrian but someone even closer who went literally of a broken heart two weeks past. Her husband died the week before of a brain cancer. It has been a very cold winter.
The spring brings new light, new hope and hopefull, less death.
Thank you Anna-lys for the hug!
I love your poetry. You make it look so easy. I would love also to see a New Mexico spring again.
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