Do you mourn your pink children? Once budding, perfect on your fingertips, in full bloom, huddled in your cold stubbled embrace, whereupon spring's insistent breeze, they fell to duty and to their rest. There, laying carpets for a hundred aimless lovers so blindly snapping self obsessed moments in this fast fleeting fanfare of popcorn. Tomorrow come wind and rain, these wanderers are separated again. I wept then, though I knew neither the seasons nor the days For I felt the wind's cold force against my face And you drifting away, witnessing it all As these blossoms falling, shedding stark black lines standing. Childlike, crushed underfoot, dye on far away paths.

trumanity, 19 April 2018

Plum Blossom by Beijing Photographer, Lisheng Chang on Unsplash #poetry #eveningwalks

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When that day, not before

I live with it, an affront dragged along Serving no purpose but to inflict sense Something to wake me when I dare to sleep Smiles radiate, mere cold affronts to sense Needy eyes, needly thorns warding off All is vapour, no match to the inevitable scorch. Love is an island in a cold sea Deeper, yet one day drowned by it Pain seeks companion to torture The sea removes all traces of yearning Until it, like love, never existed We wait for a call that never comes

Innocence melts in burgeoning noon's heat Roots drink their fill, a hue with emerald time Field adorns herself in jewels' replete A humming bee tends the wizened vine

Wade in the field knee-deep there to stand Gaze upon saying naught to snow nor to sand A trail of gems and traces of things yet unsure Hum a slow route to the gold salty shore

Oh, dear Field in a blurry mad fade White snow hastening far and away Oh, adorned One reveal how the days From shadows shall raze quandering gaze.

trumanity, 3 May 2022

Image: Only white in the green, Lima, Peru by Ariana Suárez on unsplash

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i've known love but only from the inside from the inside giving out not even from the inside looking out for what I saw was not love i thought it was until a moment when I saw what it was was love. but not the giving out kind and then i came to know that some live without love ~ whether for fear of it or having no need for it ~ and that, maybe, all we ever do with love is live with a burning hunger for it We dream of it in front of us, inside us it helps us sleep until it begins to keep us from sleep Once i came to know then chose that knowing and breathing while knowing requires neither believing in things like trust in not being hurt by it in being who I want but it requires living who I want regardless of all that may come.

trumanity, 15th February 2021

fabien-bazanegue-n-BIYvtgh-Pvs-unsplash #poetry #eveningwalks

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