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

Vanishes silently.

13 Replies to “Winter in Summer”

  1. Ophelia’s gifts come unbidden
    Rosemary and pansies
    Come cold to the hand
    And rue
    Always rue as well
    But like the violets
    Wither to dust
    And blow away
    When somewhere
    A black bird
    Croaks the only word it knows

  2. Wow this is something lovely and old fashioned. Quite different from what you usually write but I really like it a lot!

  3. 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.

  4. I didn’t even remember the rosemary part but that just made me think of that famous pre-raphaelite painting also

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