Wilted Flora with Good Intentions
a january's chill made her breath spring out like steam from a kettle.
she faltered through the crag.
with only the ring of a church bell.
and the caw of a raven to sway her mind from the numbing cold
that swallowed her ears, and cemented her eyes
in a fairy tale that could only pick the grey from the rainbow
a band aid over a calloused hand, placed some lavender on my castle walls.
i would have brought roses, she said.
but i waited too long.
a lone dilatory tear hit stone and to her surprise the earth did not crumble.
https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/6xpi01/prelude_to_war/?st=j8dkmz9l&sh=af7f82d0
Posted Oct 4, 2017, 9:56 PM UTC
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