Ottava Rima Lost To Love
Tasting loss of leaves before the Dagar winds
Its tracks of his mean cuts through her heart and trees
could somehow bar twice his ice before it rends
and strips her bare till she falls unto her knees
She would find the strength that willingly defends
his faulted love that comes and goes but never frees
If not his deepest empathy, Mine and thine
to mend her broken branches, we must entwine!
Copyright © Ingrid Showalter Swift | Year Posted 2022
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