like autumn leaves
naked
brittle
and
frail
strewn against their will
by whispers of winter
so too her thoughts of him
lying long dormant
naked
brittle
and
frail
strewn against their will
by whispers of winter
so too her thoughts of him
lying long dormant
now weave their way
on the winds of time
into her days and nights
days without light
nights without end
without him
leaving her heart
naked
brittle
and
frail
like autumn leaves
on the winds of time
into her days and nights
days without light
nights without end
without him
leaving her heart
naked
brittle
and
frail
like autumn leaves
.
.
.
2 comments:
I read your poem and found it beautiful, milady. But as is often the case recently, I feel so much distress in you.
Distress, and these days you seem to shrink inside yourself and disappear entirelyé
Wake up, woman! Cold is here, not there, you don't know about snow and ice in the night's bitter air.
Come back...
Roger
my dear dear sir - you have me crying...
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