Written for: Poetic Asides April 2017 Challenge – Day 11
Two-for-Tuesday: Write a sonnet or write an anti-form poem.
A full flowered spring, rebirth, renewal
is under the wing of Autumn’s last chill,
awaiting entrance as I await yours. ‘Tis cruel
to find me at threshold with no hope, still
I am haunted by ghostly memories. Black
and white photographs now mottled with tears
are all that is left of our time. Now I look back.
Without you my future is merely a blear.
A conflict, they called it, this crushing of youth,
and when the allotted blood was shed,
all spring flowers withered in face of sad truth.
Tell me why all these young men are dead.
Yet, each springtime blossom gives me a glimmer
of how life would be with no loser or winner.