My word for 2018:
My Choice

Wednesday, December 16, 2015

Weeping willows

Weeping willows 
shelter a pierced soul
while crusty earth soaks up feverish tears.

A brittle soul on the mend
still wears the unbearable loss
like a constraining sheath.

Every day gentle breezes 
charm up memories
that in turn explode,
rustling the sheath 
tearing up old wounds.

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