Watercolor

barely there, whispers…

as the residue of clouds

veils the evening here below.

streaks so pale as to be rendered

a lifeless grey, save for

the fragile signs of life

that they so delicately, elegantly,

possess…

 

breath fades out in soft exhale…

charcoal blankets,

thick, slow, and ever so somber,

slowly lay the day down

to rest…

 

and i, seeking and alert…

wired with raw emotions,

ablaze with immense desires,

am compelled to attend to the gentle

hush

of a world in mourning,

so wounded,

so broken,

so sore…

Author's Note

also written in the wake of death...