The tips of trees dance together in the cold breeze.
Roofs of row homes scale the desolate sky.
Where is the sun today?
Who is to say she will ever return?
There was a time she glistened;
wrapped me in the warmth of a tender embrace.
I danced,
trampled dandelions,
carelessly.
Yellows, greens, pinks-
the purple of my twirling dress-
mixed together.
A Monet masterpiece,
come to life.
But now, what now? I have tired of dancing
and have forgotten steps.
The dandelions have wilted,
unrecognizable from their former selves.
The once vibrant colors blend…
a dull brown.
The sun, she has gone away,
leaving all but a memory.
How I long for that embrace,
if only for a moment.
If only for a moment,
I will be fine.
No comments:
Post a Comment