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

.

Tagged with: