April
By Jane Hyphen
- 1460 reads
Where does sadness go?
Does it drift into the gentle waves of sorrowtide,
on grieving shores to ebb and flow?
Does it languish in the everglades
of unmarked hours and empty days?
Can it touch the hardest hands
that caught the April butterfly,
to only watch her colours bleed
for all time into hill and sky?
Does it seek to dim the golden glow
of every followed dawn?
April came so warm to burst the hardest bud
but left a hole as cold as snow
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Comments
Hey Jane.
Hey Jane.
This is an incredibly beautiful drift of thoughts and images. It works for sorrow so exactly in my book. I Feel transported reading this - on waves of emotion and the emptiness, but to a kind of peacefulness, too. That's where the ebb and flow probably comes in. Cos sorrow isn't solid, is it? It bends and has breaks, or no one could survive it. Ramble over - love your poem.
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Lightly written for a heavy
Lightly written for a heavy subject. Works well.
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I like the projection of
I like the projection of suffering on to the natural hardships of our environment. It envelopes the emotion well and also paints a vivid portrait of landscape in the mind's eye.
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hi jane, this worked really
hi jane, this worked really well and was genuinely affecting. i think you caught that continual throb of hurt within images of nature wonderfully, and the final part - Does it seek to dim the golden glow/of every followed dawn? April came so warm to burst the hardest bud / but left a hole as cold as snow - was stellar, such a beautiful ending
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