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Shiverings

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Broke down day

Broke down heart

No birds will sing

 

Finally!

No more

Sorrow

 

Or season

To breathe

In dust

 

Dull of shine

The last of me

Has seen the dusk

Dust is mine

 

Quiet sorrow

Shall not

Have this day

To borrow

 

For gay

Are thoughts

Of memories

Passing

 

Life is a must

It breathes

It beats

It rises

 

In warmth

Of days sun

But not in me

This the finally setting

 

Tears fall apart

In closing skies

But fear not

Skin of my heart

 

My last beat

Is yours

 

Wonderful light

Sweetheart

Comments (2)

This comment was minimized by the moderator on the site

This poem really defines the grace to dying that cannot be seen but only felt. Lovely my friend

This comment was minimized by the moderator on the site

Nice to hear from you wicked one. Thanks for your thoughts, we all need feedback. As you are probably aware these poems we submit are early in their birth. Most of our poems are almost unrecognizable after working on them over the long term, but...

Nice to hear from you wicked one. Thanks for your thoughts, we all need feedback. As you are probably aware these poems we submit are early in their birth. Most of our poems are almost unrecognizable after working on them over the long term, but with input we know if they should be trashed or massaged. Thanks to collaboration and insight from other poets like you we get that outside perspective, so thanks again for all your help.

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