Sunday, February 5, 2017

February 5, 2017 The Sunday Whirl #285/Heart of Stone/A Paper Kite -- Poets United Poets Pantry

Heart of Stone/A Paper Kite

sometimes dreams come easy      fill the sleeping night       you stood by the wall

dressed in black              a black scarf on your head     sometimes no dreams at all

nothing dreamed             all that happens                      happens in the “real” world

the waking world           the world of the living            dead zombies all

prayers uttered               sacrifices made                        i bite my fingernails

will the mailman bring an answer     or do i have to look elsewhere      in fire and blood

your body limp              and mine as well                     are we spent

or... are we dead             the soldiers come                    shoot their guns

is it all child's play         so easy...                                  a word misspoken

a tweet or two       i found your blood on the stair             your name carved on the door

number 222                    twos were everywhere            mother and son

i found your body there      a chrysalis                           an empty shell

your colorful wings had emerged    you took flight      left me there with the morning paper

when you left you took all the color     now all is brown           my heart is turned to stone

February 5, 2017


Rob Jackson said...

Reads like a mystery, but the solution is very sad.

ayala said...

Intense... left me feeling sad.

Sanaa Rizvi said...

I agree, this one tugs directly at the heart.. sigh...

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Your poem went deep, and took me there too. Beautiful and sad.

C.C. said...

Very heartbreaking ending, but I do so love those starting lines: "sometimes dreams come easy fill the sleeping night"

Mary said...

This is a chilling write, culminating in sadness....well penned.

Old Egg said...

Nothing is quite so painful as love.

Samyuktha Jayaprakash said...

This is a profound something. Kept re reading it..

Magical Mystical Teacher said...

A heart of stone, yet there is the memory of colorful wings. I see a tiny sprout of hope, where all appears to be hopeless. Appearances--how they often deceive us!