Once Upon a Fragile May --Quatern
In the most fragile time of year,
it comes to me in pastel shades.
Florescent lights, and silent tears,
are memories, as color fades
A rain would come one Mother's day,
in the most fragile time of year.
Ironic, how such disarray,
could sting me for a thousand years.
The grip of anguish disappears,
but eyes brim fresh, by small bouquets,
in the most fragile time of year,
which welcomes spring in early May.
A hallmark card from yesterday,
with words, unread, for her to hear,
is sealed and kept and locked away,
in the most fragile time of year
____________________________________________________
Submitted for Andrea's Contest: "Do You Know Quatern?" 5/4/14
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2014
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