PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

The river burns

mud brown

ceaselessly self driven

even at the peak of the living's polluted thirst

summer steams her  thick sticky passage

onward

to the thrust then subsequent slump of the fall

just as savagely

the trees will soon shed themselves

of their shading glory

like swiftly balding beasts

forced to reveal each their  every weakness

in stark sunlight

all ashamed

such sadness all around prevails

all those dulled edges

pieces of a time long worn away on the page

slumber limp in their own forgetfulness

sweeter still

lurks the truth of images

far less faint

loneliness works up her song

for yet another plaintive encore

for she in her crumbling self erosion knows

there is music in all silences

even  DEATH

a crescendo now all her own

the waters's murky grime and debris

lovingly erase any direct evidence  

of this very moment of her ever having existed

peace waves constant

whispering

there will be no more frightening episodes again

so good night sweet sweet Virginia

that  love you could never quite touch

is the cushion now you must collide into

so lean in strong

so to learn from

any destruction of such decision made

in a moment nothing can touch you

not even your own words

Melissa

(written August 29,2003)

about the suicide of Virginia Wolfe