Turning the Page

There is a chill to this October eve,

enveloping me like a bride’s veil,

all gossamer and silk -- white roses

blooming along hand-stitched borders.

 

These nights I hold vigil over memories,

bleached white and lifeless as glass lilies --

they no longer accept my apologies,

because eventually all things tire

of dutifully hoarded lullabies.

 

Slivers of moonlight shepherd the way,

beyond questions of tomorrow --

these precious instants -- check-marked

by the ticking of a tireless clock --

are the only threads that still anchor me

to a yesterday that is etched in stone,

 

but I must break these aged tablets:

            to turn the page and pen fresh words,

            even if they begin this ineffable journey

            as lonely dewdrops beading on virgin petals. 

Reviews

[Dean]

love it. Your memories inspire such creativity.

[Girl Friday (Sarah W.)]

Thank you, Dean :)

[lee von cleef]

The green shoots, promise...........

[Girl Friday (Sarah W.)]

Thank you, Lee.

[Pryde Foltz]

The bride that wasn't. Yes, at some point we must put the dreams away so new ones can take their place. Lovely write, Sarah.

[Girl Friday (Sarah W.)]

Thank you, Pryde :)