Widowed Rose

 The past.

 

It is no longer seen, no longer heard.

 

Only by an ageing widow who sits by day

Staring through the bars of their cage.

Looking onto the present with leaking eyes.

Dreaming of a time

When her mind can learn the current ways

And afford her release.

 

Only then can she once again mount the path

Where she walked when first

In love.

 

Only then can she sit under the stars

To feel the flow of rain.

 

Only then can she read the carving in the tree

And fill the missing date.

 

Only then can she skim the heart-shaped stone

Out across the lake,

Remembering how they swam out to the rocks

And shared their first romance.

 

Only then can she find the poem

He corked within the bottle

And hold it to her heart with that liquid look

And paint her final smile.

Reviews

[Jenn Gold]

Wow, I loved it. Pure poetry, which I guess really works in this case. I love the imagery, like "the carving in the tree," "liquid look," "leaking eyes," "paint her final smile," "the bars of their cage." This is one of my favorites.