Laughter That Never Grew

Weary... my footsteps reach a dark alley as kohl light pushes stars into tender tempest; notes from an old man's weeping guitar choke my lungs droning, droning--- as if bitter bass of winds silences my voice--- never to hear pang of a numb day that holds this sacred dream I'll never possess. Entering the halls of my mind, there she is, laughing like an angel divine, shaping a lullaby I hummed when arms cradled her when one night's breath snuffed my child before her time. And though without her, the young plum tree that grew under her shade will always bear sour flowers...its leaves and branches reaching out to me with tender longing. Perhaps I'll water them one day,some day... because without their blooms, I might forget the face of my little girl whose cheeks looked like their flushing sheaths...and I gaze at the same moonlight to touch her eyes then fold them to sleep. Opening the rusty door, we kiss," goodnight, baby... I am home." ---Based on my first cousin's experience BEST SAD POEM EVER II Contest for Laura Loo Resubmitted 9/12/2016