Temporal Poem by Anthony Liccione
Temporal
Her eyes would
read to the mood
of our love,
so precise, yet
fragile
so impatient, yet
temperamental,
so content, yet
fearful
and death took her,
when I wasn't looking
at a perfect time, when
I was lifting my roots
of a tree that withered
like the gloom of Eden
from green to burnt gold.
Tuesday, January 1, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: death,life,love,temporary
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5/1/2024 12:21:47 AM # 1.0.0.1119
