Underneath bare branches, adorned with ice
Late in the evening, tired light
Has halted from a trickle, to a flow.
And so surreal, it shifting, flickers
Across Her face, so worn by waiting here.
How the motes of shadow run and play
Within curls that seem past ready to fall away.
As surely too, they dwell
Deep beneath dark eyes, and in
Lines etched by time, and loss, and fear
That, since having been so bold and proud, are now
Warm and crinkly with care.
And wiry, those pale locks
Like swan feathers
Tossed by wind, and snow today
Turn not white, nor spare.
And longingly remain, as she remains
The ashen gray of memories
Memories that fade.
I'll wait with her, in the snow today
Beneath these branches, bare.
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Author:
Severus Alexander (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: August 31st, 2016 09:22
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 50
Offline)
Comments2
Severus, this is very beautiful. Please keep writing because you do have a gift. Don't give up poetry.
Thank you.. I'm glad that you appreciate my work.
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