Weary 3

by Violet Raven   May 9, 2020

Fireflies ignite lightbulb moments gathering
flowers for unfamiliar testimonials. Clouded
stars hang low attempting to peek through
but sobering realities don't shine tonight.

Ravens perch quietly upon oak branches
overhung with dead leaves. A red hoodie hugs
tightly covering a namesake and date that
only poetry could immortalize.

I am a grieving poet.


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Latest Comments

  • 2 weeks ago

    by Shruti

    Oh that's beautifully sad. The first few lines allow beautiful images in my mind, and then the raven and dead leaves bring in the dark atmosphere.
    Umm the last line, my guess is you are talking about particular event or a person (or maybe both) that is left in the past, and people don't remember them, and hence only words and poetry can bring them alive again. I am probably wrong; but it is a beautiful write!

  • 3 weeks ago

    by Rania Moallem

    My heart. This is very touching and very deep. I am a fan of your writing style. Appeals greatly for me. Still trying to grasp the hoodie line but I'm totally taken by the rest. Especially the last line... some writers skilled at love poetry... others even in love literature they grieve.

    Amazing work as usual.

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