Site icon Angie's Diary

The Meadows of My Mind

The dawn

like a shy bride
touched my cheeks
with one soft
golden finger
and dropped
a dewy kiss
time to face
the agony of being alive
in a world wrapped
in the tortured arms
of the Earth.

There are days

when I don’t feel the emptiness
of your departure
the salty tears
somber mornings
looking through your clothes
swear I hear
your laughter
just beyond the grave

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