Finally Forgiven

I watched her flowers wilt- Somber, as my tears were unable to resurrect their perennial luster. My bones brittle under the weight of her cold, and lying smile; I tried to sew my seed. Foolishly plowing in soil muddied by blood that was quickly becoming clotted by history- Weakly reflecting its cost by a sallow moon. We cannot harvest what has been tainted. We cannot sew seeds where soil has roots rigid with anger. And yet, I dug. Crimson hands staining the tools her enchantment gave me. Hoping they didn't break each time I hit a stone that reminded me of her once adamantine heart. Slick with the salt of anguish, I loosed the tools into shadow where I prayed hope still found them. Too weary to go on in the cold. I lit a fire under the waining reflection of my regret. Curled up. Letting rotting branches kindle. Praying for a warm Sun to work under. Or rain to wash it all away. I closed my eyes. Pictured her working the Garden. The way only she could. Her smile became the Sun. Everything began to bloom. As I sank into the Earth. Finally forgiven. -James Kelley 2019