A week or two ago all the trees beamed like brightly colored blooms begging to be picked. Now the early bloomers are scraggly and bare...
Sorrow-joy, life's rose-thorn branches
Cups love's loss-longing alloy
No bold breath fully entrenches
Nor can quite fully destroy
Russet-gold-green-scarlet tatters
Sift past Autumn’s half-shut eyes
Nature’s kaleidoscope shatters
Rearranging paradise
Umber monotone, the wind moans
Where the gauntlet of a sigh
Wafts, soft in the stricken framework
Like a ghost that cannot fly
Darling, after I have loved you
There are none I quite love so
Still, love is not jail or warden
You are free to come… and go
Inhale, exhale, my, how flowers
Falter in each breath of sky
Where the element of hours
Steals toward jilted July
© Janet Martin
This one touches me so! I can feel that you have a tremendous amount of emotion on the line in this poem. Thanks for sharing.
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