Clouds lulled me
with their quiet thunder,
yet the hollows in my skull
rebelled to not dream.
Words sprouted
and crept in the crevices
of my rotting coffin
into wildflowers.
I plucked them,
held them dearly
against my rib cages,
then I whispered,
"I will remember you."
Morrow kissed me awake.
My sight fell upon my
bone hand.
They have wilted.
I rummaged in my coffin,
frantic to find flowers
at least similar to them,
but it was for naught.
The wind then whispered,
"Why did you forget me?"
YOU ARE READING
Letters To Nimbus
Poetry[ a poetry collection about breaking and forgiving. ] He admired her so much that the light she emits blinded his eyes, and all he has vanished to oblivion. A mistake he failed to avoid. She saw him turned into something else; it was mournful. To pr...
