Walked to my mailboxa quiet gambol
lost in loss
waving red
three tulips
happy in hue
I've got years
they've got days
how can they smile
like they do
and I frown
like I do
how?
absorbed
my pain
without a word
bled me dry
with honor
wearing my crimson
healing
as only eyes
can heal
2 comments:
Inspired and inspiring, this poem is splendid in its simplicity, accomplished in its candor and consummate in its message. True poetry as only the greatest of poets can procure, still, honed, elemental, free.
The tulips are gone. I still make that walk, still lost, but the tulips are gone. There are days I wish I was gone with them.
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