In breaking skies,
she forgot
how his cry pierced
her heart;
sadness
blew west
where winter perched.
His glimpse of her
through mist
tipped joy’s echo in
his throat;
it tasted
borrowed,
of summer wine.
In breaking skies,
she forgot
how his cry pierced
her heart;
sadness
blew west
where winter perched.
His glimpse of her
through mist
tipped joy’s echo in
his throat;
it tasted
borrowed,
of summer wine.
The Word Rummager 
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