Fresh Air

Ardor flags. Perhaps she knows.
Absence erases the face of the one
Who was loved, revealing the rest
Of the world. The sky becomes
Blue again, larger. Beneath it,
I watch as pieces of ice from the
Sheet that had hidden the river
Flow away. Suggestions of growth,
Each shoot in its solitude, show on
The hillside. I see them, alone, and
I see, I feel, that little's been lost.
A lover has gone. The planet
Persists, and an earlier ardor
Resumes.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 25 times
Written on 2010-03-22 at 12:32

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