
Fountain, plashing, wants to play*Note - For those who might reasonably imagine that "plashing" is a typo, I direct you to Emily Dickenson
Petunias nod the dew away
A bumble bee makes social calls
A letter from the table falls
And casts a pall upon the scene
That just before was cool serene
With promises of healing rays
Abruptly covered by slate grays.
Dear John,
I guess that says it all.
-Jane
Dear Jane,
I guess that says it all.
-John
Sentinel of timeSome of you may recognize the influence of William Carlos Williams on this poem. He was snagging fruit in the fridge that his wife had plans for.
Old grandfather clock
Reminding me the seconds slip
As you will one day, from me
Or I from you
So please do not be angry
The little time we feast
Should be devoured as a
wet, ripe, cool, peach
on a hot, dusty, Georgia day.
More sad poems about lost love...
