Haiku 1

Death comes to me young

And Time remains as one who

Is old— yet both come.

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Sepulchre of Snow

VirginiaPoe

In the night I hither and thither

In hopes of growing fonder

Of the darkness that I do wander

With desires to grow accustomed

To the situation of “My Grief”

 

These city’s street lights love

To play tricks with my shadow

It waxes and then grows narrow

With the additional company

Of those watching “My Grief”

 

The snow banks ever upward

Threatening to upon me spiral

I downward struggle in denial

In a blunder to reunite

Postmortem with “My Grief”

 

The stone tablets project themselves

Through a temporary layer

Another burden they must bear

Although they remain quiet

Respectfully silent for “My Grief”

 

I find the sepulchre to which

I am most unwillingly familiar

Finally I sit down near her

Once again love is reunited

Passionately freezing “My Grief”

Silhouette Portraiture

portraiture

Your image

Forever emblazoned

On this ring.

 

No detail arising

To show the dimples and freckles

That once danced across your cheeks.

 

Just a profile

Of a beautiful figure, perhaps

Resembling a distinguished face.

 

Seeing you

Here on this portraiture

Never made me feel more out of place.

 

You died

So very, very long ago

Yet I trudge forward to the next age