Life does not look back. A week is more than enough time for us to decide whether or not to accept our destiny.”P. Coelho
Requiem of Past
I can see the tears falling
on the inside
of your body, tears poised
quietly behind your ribs.
You sit on leather or wood and
wait to be courted,
a long life skirting around a dance;
you barely realize the red farmhouse
quickly passing on the left.
You strain to hear the horse grazing,
the tiger lilies blooming orange,
the tall trees keep preaching as the
shimmering sun embraces brown bark.
You pray life will keep on showing you.
I can see your tears falling
as you feel the salt crystals creating
your pathway of stepping stones,
all while the warm July rain falls.
TJKdverse poetry pub