Cloud Shadow
It still remembers; though
Gray with age—
(its light within)
Air as a comb;
Though brushed; it falls back—
On tender shoulders.
Masked, sun’s burn;
already learned of
That face behind you—
I’m dying to know
Where the frail tears go.
You break in my veins.
THE LONG COMING RAIN
Copyright © Paige Hind | Year Posted 2023
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment