The dawn that morning swelled with patient grace
into the room--it did not break, but breathed
small drops of darkness on the patient face
of one lone jack o' lantern. Brownies sheathed
their daggers, dragged their tired feet to bed
preparing for much bigger tasks to come
as in the growing light my fingers shed
the last hints of your touch. The distant hum
of songs we could have sung melted into
small drops of morning dew upon the grass.
I didn't question or cry out as you
retreated too--I simply let you pass.
Unreachable stayed so as we returned
to life--But still, the jack o' lantern burned.
What did you think
Comments
-
I like all of the folklore elements and the weird sense of calm this conveys. I like all of it, but what strikes me most is "The distant hum/ of songs we could have sung." It pangs.
Also, I think I saw you writing bits of this on Thursday
Adding your comment:
