a cemetery view

unholy hour, a cemetery view
tombstone thoughts jutting out
from a row of rooted silence

there is a noose of hope,
where i committed dream suicides,
they hang like nightmare bones

i caught a hollow wink,
a lopsided grin from Death,
watering amaranthine blooms of regret

i found your name,
artlessly carved on the dust,
no memory headstone, no cross-bearing heart

i felt old and lost, i had forgotten you
you remain faceless, i remain a stranger
dying from a disease, called love

 

Reviews

[Lyn Anderson]

Reminiscent of Jacob's metaphorical style, this poem has a lot of very great analogy in it. One minor detail, carved in dust instead of on? Unless, of course, you want to leave an impression of being very on the surface, as always, poetic license is entirely yours.

[highonwords]

Jacob has a great influence on my writing - i really admire his poetry - been asking him for suggestions to improve my writing - i hope i don't disappoint him - thank you, kl, for the insightful review, the visit, and the suggestion - will think it over

my best,
steph