Misty morning meloncholy

You know I like a good prompt and these are M’s for February. Why not give them a whirl.


Silver wisps caress your icy cheeks

as morning  pushes back the night

and unforgiving golden fingers point accusing

love’s rage laid bare in starkest of delight


And all about life marches on

Oblivious to cold and brutal loss

And tendrils creep and hide the shame

‘neath leaves and roots and branch and moss


No eulogy beneath the stars

No tears, no hymn, no black procession

Under the sun, bleached, turned to dust

No longer mine, but death’s possession


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