Gone

An awful loneliness had come to clothe her well for Winter ahead.

Busy icy fingers draping her in robes of dreary, deep moss green.  

Though she might have had rags instead.

He had left,

As the birds fled,

Raggedy scavengers in the sky,

Reminding her of his perpetual goodbye.

The time of his going had come,

A drawn out, tortuous thing,

Though she knew not to wish for feelings to numb.

She knew not to dare.

The loneliness must be borne, worn with care.

October 2016

Reviews

[Pete]

Wearing the loneliness of parting like clothing. Birds fleeing. Very creative. Like the analogies because you can feel the heaviness & hurt of the separation. Great piece.

[Davina]

Thanks Pete. I'm delighted you liked it.