Song of the Thorn Bird

Song of the Thorn Bird

Saturday, March 27, 2010

silver scar

nighttime edges into dawn
empty peace of sleep eludes
glance of hand that click-clacks on the alphabet
     tending, mending a broken heart, a broken dream
glance of hand that once danced in his ebony hair
     swirling, twirling silken waves in a quiet love-dance
he, gone forever
the hand remains
older, stronger with reminder of empty bed, empty heart
     silver scar of solitude
     two-hands clasp crowned-heart
     outward and away,
     away from the heart
his love now outward and away
she, the one who walked away


2 comments:

R. Burnett Baker said...

"...click-clacks on the alphabet tending, mending a broken heart..."

How we pour our hearts out through our fingers, indeed! Love this poem, Lisa!

The Reader said...

Great reference to the symbolism of the claddagh both in the poem and picture. Lovely poem. :D