The Wind Whispers a Pardon
A poem
A poem
I have known precious moments
in the echoes of a smile.
That sweet and soulful symphony,
like a melody, carelessly thrown,
honey-layered, thick as lust,
now gone, jotting down memory lane.
Flirting as ash, dusted and scattered.
One white gem against the deepest night
that the threads of time will not unwind,
and love’s harvest now will weep
for the battle never won.