Dearest friend-your death washes over me
Nineteen days after the unanswered call
I walk through shivering tree's scabby leaves
Chilled with loud whispers of an early fall
I run my fingers over open wounds
Lesioned initials we left on this trunk
Forest floors grow over your steps, ungroomed
Mossy hollows brag where your feet once sunk
And the misty fog teases arid eyes
The rain was your favourite sensation
Guilt consumes withering rays in the sky
Your absence bears a cruel laceration
Blood warms and seeps from ironys sharp bite
Damned-I didn't answer your call that night
I wish I could write a sonnet *glum* lol...but yours is perfection. This beautiful imagery is skillful in that it is both hazy and clear at the same time. I am swept gently away to wander the forest of emotion with the author, goosebumps on my arms watching the scenes like a movie, and crying at the end. Need I say well done?
wonderful sonnet aria I can feel what poem conveys....very strongly emphasized...loved it..............I can really see your regret........beautiful imagery too
Well done Aria! I really enjoyed this piece. I really like how I can sense regret in it and the concluding lines are marvelous. Amazing write!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is a moving poem with lots of great comparisons and parrallels. and the guilt builds and builds into the last line. 19, a prime number, a subtle hint that nothing fits as it should have and also that the wound is turning into scab and the memory fades off the face of the earth but your wound still pains you. And the rain; rain that brings life and sprouting, yet all there is is foggy mist and your dried up eyes. No life is seen through those wounded eyes anymore i see. And then this ambiguous last line; it leaves more questions than answers which i suppose is exactly how one would feel to have lost one close.