Patience of the vases waiting for flowers
Anger of the sky frowning at god-knows-who
Gentle touch of the passing winds
hand in hand with those rhythms
,you know, those they classify under jazz,
being sung by god-knows-who
A pair of black shoes
,you know, those with heels modest in height,
brought by an angel
both humorous and thoughtful
I wish he forgot his hand
on my back before leaving me
for god-knows-who.
5 comments:
Your poetry is amazing, Sherry. It is unique, complex and delicate. The opening image is brilliant, vases waiting for flowers and the poem goes through intriguing transformation before ending with it's articulation of bemused loss.
Thank you Paul, glad you enjoyed...I enjoyed as much while reading your comment which placed some spring flowers, lilac maybe, in my vase:)
pain is side-by-side with sadness or/and anger, in these words, sadness is either left to the reader, or seamlessly woven into the poem..
Powerful
koz, my alter-personality, thanks for the comments...
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