Empty Shadows #13

There is a chill in my bones with you gone.

Number Thirteen

Draft 1

 

Sit with me for a bit

Under the Dead Winter Tree

Of yesterday and tomorrow

We’ll watch the last hues fall

In the shadow of the snow

Your fingers in mine

With a giggling chill of a blast

Blanketing the idea of a foolish love

Don’t go yet

Your heart calls you away

                I know,

                I weep,

Sit with me for a bit longer

My bones weary from the long drag

Of the day in mourning

Can’t let them go from the tomb

In the roots of my chest

Please - don’t go

                I’m not ready,

                To add you to the dead,

All I’m asking

A simple need

In a snowy dream is

                Sit with me.

Reviews

[John the Baptist]

Very eloquent look at a love that is slipping away. The speaker's need is painful to read; the reluctance to let go of a lost cause only increases the agony. The pleading tone of the last stanza is moving. Hopefully, healing will come.

[CLCurrie]

Ah, thank you so much. The poem has been with me for a while after I saw someone sitting under a tree reading a book but I could tell they had been crying beforehand. I wasn't sure if I wanted to put it out there, but here it is, and thank you so much.