Memento
Fluttering from books
like pressed paper aeroplanes
last vestiges of love
Heat, warmth, promise
dried to seed and sown in barren land
threaded to words that can’t be worn
the touch, the taste, the look
this moment in time now gone
ink etched to history
to keepsake kept
for rainy days
when memory is all.
Fkx
Wed 22nd Jun 2011 14:03
This is packed quite tightly into a very small package... my type of poetry. There is no breathe allowed between movements and images... thus allowing for a sweep of powerful poetic assertions then allowing the rain to drift the memory into times gone now only misty recollections. Superb share.