Brevity

Your heart is still beating, your fingertips are still warm

Trees tower overhead, standing vigil

To watch you dance with the world and all its brevity--

Still taking pleasure in soundwaves.

That’s how I remember you when you died.

Wind resigns to stagnancy,

Trees relinquish garnet leaves,

People lose the ability to surpass boundaries.

Where do all the soft voices go when you’re gone?

Author's Note

any critques welcome

Reviews

[Costa Siwale]

This is an incredible piece. i enjoy the vivid imagery you project. short but with a lot of meaning. well penned