Tag Archive: Dying


Letting Go of Daffodils

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Succulent berries captivate a young man.

A handful of Daffodils—

 

Breaths gather together,

then are lost in waves,

his soft brown hair.

 

Through the smudged window – a dove

intently it peers inside.

 

Precariously on the edge— 

She is.

(A frail branch trading fall’s exuberant color for winter)

 

 

Two smart black eyes make contact

with hazel, recalling,

still tender in the moment.

 

Telepathically an understanding:

They are about to go south… 

 

A grey painted wing matches the sky’s light.

Evaporated sound.

 

A tear sluggishly down her right cheek loses meaning.

 

Oblivious—a determined soldier

searches for his manhood.

 

Inside the walls of a peach colored room,

he climbs the mountaintop for knowledge.

 

Never to release her secret:

A silk dress inspiring on hip,

bouquet of Daffodils,

sunshine in her smile,

the gospel of yesterday’s youth –

power like money, and beauty is the firefly,

emerged!

 

Disappeared

in tragic lines—every one a story.

 

The crow appears,

lands higher upon the branch with a loud caw.

 

The dove gives-up its innocence for flight.

She closes her eyes in acceptance.

 

Time is ageless, as death is inevitable.

Goodbye.

 

-Maria Pisciotta-DellaPorte ©2018 All Rights Reserved

The Dying Dancer

Time has forced its hand, made a realist of her.

Despite every effort to balance on a dream,

everything for everything—

 

The story:

Happily ever after, all pieces placed together,

screeching-apart.

 

Above the sky,

toes precariously believed in wings…

 

Clipped by a cruel descent into desolation.

 

Heart retired—

worn satin dance-slippers on a hook.

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Maria Pisciotta-DellaPorte ©2018 All Rights Reserved