The Departed
The Departed
No fond farewell,
no kiss goodbye
His parting gift,
her tear-filled eyes…
A woman’s love,
a sacred vessel.
A recoiling spring,
the stinging nettle…
[verse]
The withered land, the hunter’s axe.
The snow filled sky, his footprint tracks.
The cruelest words,
his hollow smile.
The broken plates,
her stomach bile…
A thread worn bare,
the weeping willow.
The begging bowl,
her tear-stained pillow…
[verse]
The withered land, the hunter’s axe.
The snow filled sky, his footprint tracks.
Copyright Taun A. Richards 2016
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I took this in 2015 and posted it on Facebook along with this poem. Nobody would know this because all the evidence of my work on Facebook was destroyed.