Blue
The sudden silence of life after you.
Where did you go to, what will you do?
The seasons are turning - the trees change their clothes,
But you're stuck in August - suits you best I suppose.
For August is Yellow,
For Sunshine and bees.
For Joy in the simple
For Music in breeze.
Now the storms are outside and here in my home,
I still hear your laugh, in the wind - but on loan.
The sudden silence of grief is Blue.
Where did you go to, what will I do?
Copyright © Emily Roberts | Year Posted 2024
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