Morning mist drapes each blossom
like a bride reluctant to wake.
Petals fall in silent confession—
memory’s hush in every drift.
Roots hold secrets of laughter and tears,
a debt of seasons owed to shadows.
Soon, steel will bite bark and bloom
and these ghosts will scatter on the wind.
.
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Author:
crypticbard (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: July 15th, 2025 04:49
- Comment from author about the poem: This is poem 1 of 7 of “a Chekhovian Suite” inspired by Anton Chekhov’s “The Cherry Orchard” 🍒
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 2
Offline)
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