fading photographs
beneath the gnarled b r a n c h e s,
a photo rests within my clutch.
time d
r
i
p
s
like h o n e y e d amber;
i long for vanished visions,
saudade, a muffled heartache.
s
moonlight streaks through tangled trees; h
a silken s i l h o u e t t e shrouds my aura. t
a gentle caress grazes my shoulder, o
memories of her touch f l u t t e r like m
the past entangles with the present;
the scent of f a d e d jasmine lingers.
as the night drones on softly,
cold air wraps around my wistful longing.
poison ivy clings to crumbling cemetery walls.
i look to the heavens for answers,
as the sky weeps and squalls in erupting solar storms.
her scattered ashes settle like snowflakes,
softly blanketing the remnants of forgotten joys,
cradling memories like delicate g l a s s.
the red thread of family ties is now seve /
/ red;
the roots asphyxiate on generational sorrow.
if the olive trees knew what
became of hands that planted them,
their oil would become t
e
a
r
s.
time’s relentless hand ticks on,
while decaying hearts beat like distant d r u m s,
resounding in the silence of cursed solitude.
Copyright © Billie Jama | Year Posted 2024
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