Hark! The rhythm

Hark! The rhythm. The pellet drum rattles. The dance begins. The creation, the annihilation, the fleeing in-betweens, and beyond these appar...

Thursday, January 3, 2013

Some love


She sat there,
Always waiting,
Wondering,
And gazing
At the emptiness.
And it did not matter
If it rained or snowed;
All she ever saw was
His blood smeared hand
Waving out to her,
And all she ever heard was
Her name, faint
Midst the loud report of the pistol.
 The redhead lived
With the trail of red blood
Ever since that day.
The past pending,
In every fiber of her being,
Her only wish
To lose herself
One more time,
In his loving embrace.
She lived on, with her love
Dancing in the shadows
Of that evening autumn fire.

23 comments:

  1. How heartbreaking to be stuck in the moment of such a painful memory, longing only for better times.
    ~Angela

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  2. Nice. Simple and elegant yet tells a complete story. Well done!

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  3. Oh, beautiful and sad. I like it, Ruby. :-) well done as always.

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  4. Brilliant. You always manage to breathe lyricism and impact into a mere handful of words. Well done!

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    1. Thank you Shelton. Your words are so encouraging and inspiring.

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  5. Lovely words. So glad you're linking up with us!
    ~Cam

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  6. I just reread this and I wanted to say again how much I like it!

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    1. Thank you Deana. This is the best compliment I could have received.

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  7. ooooh - I want to know more . . . please

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  8. Very nice. It paints a beautiful and haunting picture on the imagination.

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  9. What a difficult place -- longing for something you've destroyed. Bittersweet and evocative -- thank you.

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  10. Beautifully written. Such is life!

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    1. Thank you so much Jackie for your visit and your kind words.

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Since every thought is a seed, I am looking forward to a delicious harvest.