by Linda M. Crate
autumn dances colors into my eyes
vibrant yellows, oranges, and
reds
dispersing the darkness
of grey, despondent clouds brushing
a cool ocean of breeze
loosing
my hair into the wind;
blowing leaves into
my arms
love letters that aren't mine to answer —
i wonder if i were someone's
dream once
forgotten and abandoned
three pomegranate seeds too bitter
to swallow,
and left behind to burn in slow
retire
until they were all but forgotten;
wish i could remember
how the other part
of my
soul
walked and talked and looked
i bet he looks like autumn
tastes like cider on my tongue, draws out
my words so i can paint fire
into stars.
...someone should publish a book of Ms. Crate's Love Poems, so all abandoned lovers can carry the bound-text across the Bridge to this solitary Cafe where we pass our days dreaming of The-World-that-Was - this World-to-Come? What about it, Russell?
ReplyDeletewretchedEarth, I'm so very flattered by this suggestion. Thank you for being a constant supporter of my work, I truly appreciate it!
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