In The Winter Of Your Love.

In the winter of our love,
my limbs grew barren
from your many leaves,
driven from my hopes
by your full blown anger.

I watched the fall progress,
till I was stripped
of all dignity,
the multicolored beauty
of your passion swept away.

Inconsequential things
that matter little now
since I am bare without you
and your are vanished in the wind.

Long after you have been raked
over my soul and and relegated
to the remains of what was
there will be buds of hope emerging,
for a new love to grow in your place,
but the roots run deep.



Shouder blades
hugging brick walls
wingless angels
in flights of
fantasy unrealized
their loneliness
shuffles sadly
from one foot to another
at every Blue Ball

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poetlorraine 6 years ago

Spring sure does bring lots of buds, a time for new growth

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