Forlorn Season

by Sunshine   May 27, 2020


Muddied are the creeks,
no blue reflections
crawling down the marshes.
No one's at the riverbanks
no one's near the benches.
Space moving in circles,
void knocking at the door,
barren are the graceless rings,
no flowers are on the rise
only nothing is rising.
Dull, are the yellow rays,
to whom are you burning for?
The lazy waters on repeat?
or the species and living things
breathing in the underneath?
Are the eerie hours worth it,
rustling leaves and silent breeze?
No clear night skies, no sunny days
no fires, no camping above the mist.
We'll never be ready for spring.
always veiled from summers.
Stiff,
stiff are always those winter lips.
Very cold.
Cold are all the words we utter.

    report violation
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Latest Comments

  • 5 years ago

    by Violet Raven

    Stunning visuals here! Love the story told here. I love the description of darkness veiled within the metaphor.

    I think you are saying that although it is technically spring time now, nothing feels like it is blooming anymore and i read it two ways here. It could be taken at face value in which the world has gone mad and it doesn't feel like spring but i think the hidden meaning (because of the ending) is

    that you feel nothing is blooming inside of you anymore. You are veiled in the memories of summer and the past had happiness. A lot of people equate summer with bliss (and i think you've done so here ) but

    The present is winter time and you feel saddened because of the winter you feel inside of yourself and despite your best efforts nothing blooms and all feels empty.

    I also believe all the places you mentioned are places with good memories (creeks, beaches, etc) that you don't enjoy or enjoy less now

    • 5 years ago

      by Sunshine

      thank you for your ceaseless thorough reviews..

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