Lovely day takes her bow
and so spills her veil upon
the hardened ground.

Her velvet fingers
slide softly over memories,
but like the ag-ed past,
she can’t quite recall
all the all.

On her birth, she spoke
of hope and never loss:
brightness, light and the turning key.
New eyes seeing new light.

Now her time has left.
Sputtering for breath,
she gasps for the elusive hold.

© rl busséll 2018

The sunsets in Texas

The sunsets in Texas

For Boo, a sun in the dark world.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.