Treasure Island

Jean Renwick


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Carnations on the square plot of lush grass,
trying to say what is never said.
Tears roll down a numb cheek
to seal with a kiss the memory of love.
And the child moves away.

She was robbed of the best years of her life.
Is this God’s grandeur –
the gift to love what must go before?

[Hata Bildir]