flowers in war.

by hiraeth   Sep 25, 2020


and you -

where light was bountiful,
free-flowing like geraniums,
you cupped your hands and
sipped the sun greedily,
spilling remnants for us
to drink. like a dry wick,
we usurp what we can.

preemptively we dig our own
graves and sleep soundly in it,
partially accepting reality,
partially hoping that six feet
under, there's something
to root towards.

like dandelions wilting in
slow winds, dreaming of
lush soils that weren't
fertilized by blood -

we let go,

we let go.

7


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Latest Comments

  • 2 months ago

    by nourayasmine

    A part of me is gleaming with joy over reading your refreshing poetry, while another part is dying of envy that I wasn't the poet who could write with such genuine emotions.

  • 3 months ago

    by Rania Moallem

    As always..you write using an pen from outer space Mark. what a stunning poem. Natural born writer. I am touched by every word.

  • 3 months ago

    by Lost star

    This is a mesmerising poem, wonderfully written.

  • 3 months ago

    by Skyfire

    I would love to hear your inspiration behind this, should you feel so inclined to share in a DM. It's tantalizingly melancholy. Congratulations.

  • 3 months ago

    by Gracy Judith

    Beautifully penned. Congratulations! A well-deserved win!

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