Still Lovely
In the fall
With you.
Despite
Our scraping pains—
Dry leaves on our walk,
Your whisper in my brain.
We walk a rocky strand
Waves rolling,
In skittering dark—
Summer ebbing and although
Broken—
We haven’t fallen apart.
We’re survivors;
Love hasn’t killed us
But heals us,
Makes us strong.
Places inside us
Grief collects
But somehow we struggle on.
And you,
Backlit by the sullen sun
So lovely and still fair;
The sunlight gently gilds
Your face and stray strands
Of your hair.
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A great poem of a great man.
Congratulations - you are nominated for the JANASILVER LOVE AWARD this month.
SEND with LOVE.
Peace
!COFFEEA
Thanks,Jana - your image of me is what I'd like to be :)
It all came together beatifully in the last verse. Thanks
I had not really thought of it before, but for many, it is true that love becomes a dark patch, splintering their lives. But then, we can only name ourselves survivors if we have survived experiences others have not.
Yes, survivors have depth and resilience others lack, especially those who jest at scars but themselves, never felt a wound.
And I am now wondering how Ryan and family are doing?
😄😇😄
So am I, my friend :(
<Deep sigh...>