She Wore Black

She wore black;

They all did.

Lace and tights 
And eyes and tears,

All for him.

He wore nothing,

Just regret and bones

Encased in pine;

And soon, flame. 

The world lived,

Even if he did not.

His creases and lines

Belonged to the Earth now;

They were her's to hold. 

Flowers fell from strangers 

Onto pine and grass.

A childish gesture 

Some could say; and would.

Throwing petals

To make things beautiful;

To make things okay...

But it wasn't. 

Never again would it be.

Fragments of china 

And photographs 

Fell much later.

As did the flowers they sent;

Roses burned,

Their black petals drifting 

Towards the lonely floor

As her mind

Hit the ceiling. 

Another childish gesture...

Standing in the doorway;

Angry and alone,

She wore black. 

Reviews

[Nolo Segundo]

The sadness-- and beauty of this poem are almost tangible as your grief was poured into every word. For whatever it may be worth, I can only say I learned-- the hard way-- as a young agnostic almost 1/2 a century ago that death is a door, not a wall. and we all exist without start or finish, beyond the illusion of time itself.

[lessa (kenzie)]

such an emotional write here, lovely presented

[Yahallo]

A very beautiful emotional piece with interesting images.