By: Hunter Christian
On the morrow
Under gray clouds ubiquitous
She will measure her tears on the scale of sorrow
As she bids a solemn adieu
To the only lover she ever knew
The dark passenger of he
Took the wheel of his mortal vehicle
Careening the youthful vehicle into tumbling waters of a
thunderous sea
On the morrow
The cascading rains will slow from a wash to a trickle
As she lowers her eyes to the bronze casket that holds he
For all eternity, in solemnity
Heartbreak hath no remedy
Amidst whispers of wasteful, youthful “tragedy”
And, on the morrow
Birds of myriad varieties will fly above
To bear witness to the rising of his lost and broken soul
Upon her fragile body his departure has taken its toll
A slender frame that casts a long shadow of love
A shadow that will grow longer with the setting sun
As tidewaters roll into the shores of her mind
Upon sandy shores where upon her love affair had begun
On the morrow
When she trembles in the drenching rains of sorrow
That will surely slow to a trickle
whose delivering gray clouds will surely yield
To the sleepy sun that lengthens her shadow across a barren field
So that a measure of her love may guide him back home
With whispers of faith on the breeze
Their love roaming throughout the words of this humble poet\'s
poem
Infinitely cataloged upon the parchment paper of fallen leaves
Reinvigorated back to life with every spring anew
Their story gets written and rewritten upon an endless diary of
God’s hallowed garden of trees
Lost are the many; found are the few.