Proudly Walking Away
Before the lion-tempered winds of March returned
Trashing yellowed petals of fragile, tiny crocus bloom
I breathed fury from the bitter, tainted love I spurned
And walked away, even though her anger spelled doom
In my unwavering path away, I swept clean the room,
I packed fragments of unblemished love that were right
Carried them confidently into the darkness of that night.
Written June 19, 2021
Copyright © L Milton Hankins | Year Posted 2021
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