...Black Forsythia...
Tendrils of pain
creep gently down
to sleep again
corridors of numbness
In my Room
With a View
simple, subtle hues
earth and sky
aching, laced up
bones advancing, tired
a heavy feather
alongside my heart
subtle shades descending
a bronze crescendo
autumn into winter
black as forsythia
remnants of weeds
April of 1983
pale amber danger
under her branches
proving to me
to us all
can I die
a million times
and still, retain
this shallow breath
Comments
Carole Anzolletti (author) from Connecticut, USA on December 06, 2017:
Frank Atanacio, thank you!
Frank Atanacio from Shelton on December 06, 2017:
wow.. very well written..
