My intimacy visited
By ghosts of a lonely deep past
Who forgot me
Whilst I don’t.
Confusion could last
Till that day I died.
My conciliation only a part
Of a running river
Where rapids set me apart
In moments of thorough giving.
I gain no time or room
To enjoy my freedom and tomb.
...........................................................................
13 comments:
This speaks to me of conflict and struggle.....sadness and hope.....Have a gentle weekend for you Dulce...
Dulce, you label "nothing special". I do not believe you. Sorry. And when you imply that a poem does not have to 'talk', it only need 'BE'... again, with some poets that may be true. But not --up to now--with your creations.
Beautiful writings you give us every time...but they are down deep Dulce. Remember, a metaphor has a discernible meaning for whoever cares to read--or reads with care--grin.
Nice photo--someone better eat that apple.
PEACE, Babe!
Enjoyed reading this. The title is fitting.
visited by the ghosts of the past...this is deep dulce and you captured this loneliness well...we all are at one or the other point... fine write and love the pic
I enjoyed that lyrical poem, so sweet and bitter.
Sad and haunting lines specially these:
Who forgot me
Whilst I don’t.
my freedom and my tomb...that line captures it well...and ghosts that float right through...nice write dulce...
love your new header...
Deep as the waters that flow through the leaves of your poetry, Dulce. Oh, those restless ghosts of time.
Startlingly beautiful words, as always.
And I like your new header graphic.
xo
I love those last two lines! Beautiful.
Love the image! Ghosts from the past are indeed haunting ~ this I know for sure ~ This piece has touched me on a personal level ~ It is a lonely trek at times for those of us left behind ♥ ஆ ~.^
Lovely imagery, beautiful poem...
I echo the words of Sarah (Nikki). Beautiful words and beautiful poetry.
I am off to Ireland for a week but will visit you here when I return.
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