Yearning
For whom does the death rattle whisper
on this windless, snowy night?
The old man sitting by the fire, listening
to his loving wife, wordlessly wishing;
yearning for more time within this life.
His blue eyes flicked in the fire's light
fixated on his joyous love
who's black hair blended along with night
and silver streak fallen over her eye,
never able to stay above.
As the rattle grew into a shutter,
the smoke plumed upward to the sky.
The fire crackled, and popped, and sputtered.
Watering, his blue eyes said goodbye.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
