About the Poem
Love lost to anything is a heartbreak. Love lost to death is the most painful of all. Where is the thing called "time that heals all wounds"? I haven't found it yet.
Promises Of Spring
|by Rosemary J. Gwaltney|
Behind the back porch
Where we spent the summer
Swinging snugly in the gleaming
Moonlight. Barn owls calling urgently
Back and forth. We were lost in each other’s
Smiles; hypnotized by each other’s hands
Clasped together, in promises of spring.
Entwined in scented dreams sweeter
Than richest masses of blossoms
Twisting yellow through
Who could have seen it coming?
The sentence of sickness
When the first frost arrived
Lightly dusting pumpkins and squashes,
I lay alone between rows of dried cornstalks
In the field beyond the chicken-house,
Face down in the icy mud
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