deepundergroundpoetry.com

To hold cold hands

A pen laid flat, cryptic crossword remains unsolved
thunder clouds rub shoulders, in the static air
Irritate, the greater half is now dissolved
those loved, broken, separation for the unprepared
 
For when I stared with empty eye
and in my mind, I held his chilling hands
ego washed in bleach, silence in reply
no cheers caroused from our grandstand
 
Slow handclaps, welcome, a lost conquest
and tarnished desolation creeps
temptation to wail and beat ones chest
loves rat the first to leave a sinking ship?
 
To plot a course and venture forth
he was the wind upon my face
white stallion rode on the foreshore
 vibration's and the un-disgraced
 
Pin drop silence, loneliness, the teeth that bite
the broom that sweeps up all regrets
the trailer playing what is afterlife
blond streaks that showed, when his hair was wet
 
Ice blocks of summer how they froze the heart
black ribbon's bows now tied across
as we were Gwynevere and Lancelot
relive the moments so besot
 
As the dirt was cast, upon the coffins top in mourning
in wistful recall, a frank exchange and cutting wit
angels share the plans that we were forming
The missing,  a miner in a cold black pit
Author's Note
tribute to Auden's, Funeral Blues - https://web.cs.dal.ca/~johnston/poetry/stopclocks.html
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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