keening

and now in this near Spring
rainy but with no more tears
what have you become
– the heart ripped from my breast
– the silence at night that covers all
– the bird in the early morning
that so cruelly wakes me

and now what do you do at not seeing me
can you still smile that impish smile
and of what do you think –
of caterpillars   or   butterflies

you know now that   yes   you’ve grown
to be the only bloom in the garden
of my whimsy    that all I am and own
is imbued with your haunting fragrance

now as I hear that cruel bird
that ravages my dreams
your lips are like the dawn
half fire    half ice

*    *   *

© Gregory V Driscoll  2014

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

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

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com 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 )

Google+ photo

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

Connecting to %s