The Balcony Bows
The balcony bows like a bridge unmaintained.
Song birds are silent, their hearts uninspired.
Grape vines hunker down as if never trained.
Scarlet petals fall, their fragrance expired.
Shattered is the night sky like sharp glass shards.
Sparks, once in our eyes, liquify the ground.
Minstrels are mute in abandoned courtyards.
Pitter-patter is the refraining sound.
Masquerade faces can no longer hide
from the truth that beauty departs with death.
A dagger divides a young groom and bride;
lamenting cries consume their final breath.
The script is flipped over like clover in mud.
Misconstrued love poisons life-giving blood.
8-15-2022
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