Flowers for Violetta
the moon lost its way again tonight
with no eyes to see the broken stars
hanging from the midnight ceiling.
he was alone on the path to friendship
with all the angels above hanging
on his shoulders. when he made
a bad turn, he felt a set of hands
as cold as blue ice tap his back.
*She is gone to heaven don'cha' know?
Momma's soft tender voice is singing hymns
softly in the wind* His heart felt heavy
like an iron clad inside of him. At that point,
he found it immensely difficult to carry
his aching heart in his chest when all
the while he thought of the woman
he loved the most in this world.
*It's momma, don'cha' know? It's momma.*
that night, the spirit of the moon wept sweetly,
blocked out the midnight-sun in shades of sorrow,
in the eyes of the fire of the ashes of the grave...
By Caprichos
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
* Please Note: The poem's body is a vase for Violetta's flowers.
By Caprichos
© 2008 Caprichos
(All rights reserved)
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