 | The memory of her Was like a saffron mist of Sunlight Breaking through clouds Recalling the smell of her Rose like a soft rain On a gentle field of jasmine The smile of her Freckled with white Alyssum Crowned her face Her breath Sewn into a wreath Her words crooned birds From swinging branches Her poems pressed the sunrise to Weep in joy He recalled it all As the day waned to indigo And stars winked And the hollow moon tipped Soft shadows He was naked in memory His life Tumbled scarlet © carol voccia 2008 all rights reserved |
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