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The Picnic

Rating: 5.0

I carried quilt and basket through whispering grass

To the patch where no grass grows

Just as sunlight bled over the horizon

The breeze thrust the quilt into a rolling wave

Finding refuge over the naked earth

A bandage over scar tissue

Embroidered with roses blooming

And caressed with the perfumes of labour



In the dirt, frosted, greying
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Thursday, September 25, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: lost love
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
This is a poem about an elderly woman visiting her husband's grave with a picnic. Upon spilling wine onto the quilt, she is overwhelmed by the memories that it holds.
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Chuy Amante 26 September 2014

This is an unbelievable write! tears, thanks

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