The day carves my heart out
A late pumpkin without foil
There’s a heat in the room consuming oxygen,
Devouring futures with crisp slice
Crumpled in conservation
Loss lies in wait
Her abundance a carefully stitched mockery
An unwanted longing shines through dim shadow
And seeing no life there
No no life
13 Replies to “Winter in Summer”
Ophelia’s gifts come unbidden
Rosemary and pansies
Come cold to the hand
Always rue as well
But like the violets
Wither to dust
And blow away
A black bird
Croaks the only word it knows
There’s an ache to this that knows no bounds.
Dear Sonia thank you so much
You nailed it – like you always do
Wow this is something lovely and old fashioned. Quite different from what you usually write but I really like it a lot!
*Gives you a big hug*
Thanks. I don’t know why, but the giving of the flowers in Ophelia’s mad scene (rosemary for remembrance) popped up so strongly. Well played it is an indictment of everyone in that room as only the mad can poetically deliver. I’m so glad you like it, after all, you sent me there.
I didn’t even remember the rosemary part but that just made me think of that famous pre-raphaelite painting also
Oh, which painting? It’s not coming to mind.
Ophelia by John Everett Milais I believe?
Yes, I see it. Thanks
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