To stare across the table and to see
Her face reflected, mirrored on your spoon,
Her silver hair, translucent imagery
To represent a dusk that came too soon.
You run the road that flees before your feet,
With every step the asphalt longer still.
Your fingers fleeing, fearful, cease to meet
Between the dying strands. Her face foretells
The past. And were you with her long ago,
Before these acid tearmarks lined her face?
Before these raven feathers turned to snow?
Yet every line must turn. Return from grace;
You stop to rest the quarters on her eyes,
Her hair continues growing as she dies.
|
Submission Name: Sonnet to Raven
