Her Image Drifts
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Within the long crevices of twilight
As hazy images would slip and fade—
Minutes drift like an opalescent rite
Where silhouettes flash behind a lampshade,
Wheeling faintly on my mind to invade
Glimpses from young adulthood I recall
Such b r o k e n n e s s this fist could never haul:
Yes, Mama’s portraiture finds me needing
Treasured vignettes now angled on our wall...
Prayers I grant on this date---her wedding.
~
Dizain Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Dear Heart
5/18/2020
Copyright © Nette Onclaud | Year Posted 2020
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