For you, Deb, always…
Each week The Sunday Whirl invites writers to write a poem or short prose using some or all of the “Wordle’s” 12 words. This week it is:
To My Love
Your laugh is a feast, I said
when we first met way back when.
It generated love and broke
many a tense time since then.
Laugh for me, again, please, love.
I kneel now at your suffering engine, emptying,
Your ghost sack escaping,
your breath lost along with my own.
I hold your hand, longing for the vision
of those once blue veins that matched your eyes.
The merriment now gone,
and I am lost, too, thrown
out, and what I would give
to know that I have given
you the feast you gave to me.