and post notes and photos about your poem like Decima WRAXALL.
This is my latest version about the loss of my beloved husband
Scent of lilies.
His pain over, mine just begun.
I caressed those hands, gifted, loving.
Kissed his waxen brow.
A blink away from the dying sun,
the ignition key trembled.
I half-expected to waken,
clasped in his arms. Soothed
back to life, on the mourning air.
Our silent house stood strong,
ticking away lonely hours and empty nights.
While I flinched from the glacial steppes,
of our marital bed.
Copyright © Decima WRAXALL | Year Posted 2020
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