Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Facing the Sun
A massive stillness envelopes his mind,
A secret grief that lives in his marrow.
Through the window of memory
He still catches glimpses of her,
The scent of rosehips in her facial cream,
The clattering colors of her crocuses
Poking their resilient faces
Through the snow to face the sun,
But he does not recognize the woman
Who shared his bed for fifty-two years,
Who now visits his bedside
In the advanced care center daily,
Who still hopes that perhaps
Life will hand her husband
One more chance to flower
And face the sun.
~~~This poem was written in response to this week's prompt from The Sunday Whirl.