Autumn’s chill crept over the
glorious Summer of her heart.
Sweet kiss of pink drained
from the face of love
as thorns sprang up like
daggers to cut into her soul.
Crimson flooded her being as
she faced the icy Winter
of his Indifference.
Awaiting death, she longed to bury
her pain beneath the dry
brown carpet of decaying hope.
Sweet torture!  that wound which
does not heal lest
its life be thought in vain.
No death, passing into love born anew-
No blush of pink, no green glory
basking in the light of Spring’s happy smile.
Forever crimson, ancient sorrow
for love lost to her now-
A remnant,
she burns as fire upon the fresh carpet of
Summer’s face.
See me!
I bleed for you with every sunrise-
and refuse to die.

Cheryl KP

8 thoughts on “Remnant/Poetry

  1. I love the shape of this poem. After reading, I scanned the contours of the lines; it’s as though you’ve painted a physical picture as well as with the imagery used.


    1. Thank you Julia. I saw the same situation twice on my walk. It is unusual to see leaves of such color here, even in Autumn, so for them to still be clingning in late Spring seemed very profound. It held significance for me. Glad you enjoyed it.


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