End of the Road
LOST SOUVENIRS
Your distant gaze flits, nearly bare
Like a mist that smothers the road
Windblown by chill; here, everywhere
A promise ending as breaths explode
My heart trickles as dew submits
To a quivering that grieves,
For our tattered love now wilts
As sullen face of moon retrieves.
Oh, cloudbursts wrap hours’ deep pining,
Traces of ardor become one;
And souvenirs no longer bring
The charmed laughter and its reason.
1/7/2017 Nicola Byrne's Poet's Choice-
End Of The Road, Just Friends
Copyright © Nette Onclaud | Year Posted 2017
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