A Quick Finale Poem by Lydia Martin
A Quick Finale
Shaft of rain.
Split instant wept.
Crash of tears.
Lies alone,
Unswept.
Echo of stain.
Torn now bereft.
Match of spears.
Secret, sly,
Unkept.
Alone again.
Veer high and left.
Endless years.
Knife’s true line
Is deft.
Wednesday, August 28, 2013
Topic(s) of this poem: alone
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8/28/2026 7:48:18 AM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
