Grief

My third poem today…overload!

And no, I grieve for nothing, for no one; yet here are these words. They always know something I don’t.

Image result for baby's breath

 

Grief

Is it time to taste the wine
we poured last night,
still and dark
in the crystal,
in the bloom
upon its stem
forgotten in the shadow
of the vase
you once filled with flowers:
the roses, the purple aster,
the baby’s breath
as white as memory
and stars?

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2 thoughts on “Grief

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