Folding petals in blazing reds
with fresh cut grass and sunset light.
The stage for your final performance.
The taste had not left my tongue,
and laughter barely stilled my lips
when in swooped the hooded figure
in a metal screech and shattering slam.
Robbed, in the smallest of moments
by a machine in the same startling colour
of your t-shirt that day.
My final memory of you, slammed to the path
eyes closed, face still, neck twisted...
But I block it out
and remember you with the tulip
and a smile.
A contest entry
- Having Coffee with a Memory by shepherd23.
300 points, ended June 5, 2008, 14 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Reviting.
I take it this memory was the death and funeral of your beloved ? What an awesome poem. I looooove it. I hope it wasn't true, but it's so heart felt, ....... Good luck in the contest. And if it was true, I'm so sorry, and if it was just a poem, pretty talented to be able to put yourself there.
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Haha thanks but don't worry, it didn't actually happen to me!
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