DAY

Crepuscular gloom I inhale 
beneath the swaying silver 
birch at high noon.

Memories of light and breath,
of pale rose petals sailing 
on the wind, beckon through 
acres of murky timelessness.

A sweet voice I hear, its 
childish lilt a glimmer in my 
half-light, alas, merely echoes
of words never spoken.

I peer into the bird bath, 
seek my invisible reflection,
cry tears I cannot see, their 
briny warmth I cannot feel.

The grass seems by age 
untouched, as do the melodies 
that paint the roses, their 
scent denied me, though their
roots once embraced my bones.

From lustreless depths I spot
her, as she falters 
through Stygian palls; clothed
in a penumbral haze, her earthly
perdition she curses  
in the dazzling sunshine.

Radiance brighter than day 
washes o'er me...

© 2014 Lily's Verse

Lilium Candidum

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