you lost her
in your arms
her final heartbeat
was yours
you turned to the desert
not the sea
your poem
began that day
your parched throat was hers
in a sea without water
your thirst for her
for her hand
for her lips
for her bosom
waves in your verse singing
for her who was still you
in the desert alone
you would always be together
you called her back
line after line
you begged
the wounded earth in labour
to bring her back
your voice
calling to the elements
calling each tear with a new name
all names were hers
your voice
hers to call
to unite thirst with thirst
and live on in song
and a reading of this poem :
Write a comment
Mayola Dohrmann (Thursday, 02 February 2017 20:30)
What a stuff of un-ambiguity and preserveness of precious familiarity concerning unexpected feelings.