Dying Breath

The dying breath of our love rested
in the mist beneath the willow trees
as the night shed stars like tears
and cried out with the resentment
of our simple speculations.
We pushed our promises aside
for better days that night, but they
blew away with the wind and the rain,
erasing themselves from our memories.

Reviews

[B.S. Scarpa]

Great use of words. Sad poem but its written beautifully.

[Distant horizons]

Sad words written beautifully.