she divorced the whispering
lilies as their petals grew
bitter and no longer creased
in her palm.
they, adorned with memorabilia,
are carried out to sea -
shielding her eyes from the sun,
she stepped into the fragile
penumbra and let go of
yesterday
----
words: E. Miller, Oregon
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment