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Today’s wind shifts too fast like a tangle
of invisible lint…perhaps dust, quivering
unto fissure of grass where my heart scrapes,
as if the air denies unanswered questions
so blatantly howling about
a litany's crushed promise. Wired thoughts
rip my tulip bouquet now strewn
on the wayside of angst: how mute hymns
from an aborted vow silences a decorated aisle
on this day, this fateful day.
I turn celibate much like a virgin nun,
in front of an altar… half-empty now,
that my pain grates the most benevolent
of flowers, chafed by a drooping night
that has no syllable for me…for on this day,
a deserted betrothal leaves me
hanging , hanging on a church loft.
i’ll never know the why of an insidious choice;
except in his runaway scheme,my eyes
grow blank…tweezed iodized entombed.
Somehow, it is freezing now; a candle in prayer
burns an espousal gown;
i have never heard a more immense cold than this.
Free Verse Contest for Charlotte Puddifoot
Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2016
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