A broken heart
is not death
although it
searches
for a grave.
Guilt and rejection
sing their dirge
until the tongue
can no longer
barter for sympathy.
Stirred by an inner voice crying
“Pity has paid its penance”,
vocabulary begins its Lazarus’ walk
away from its tomb of salt lick tears.
Speaking away the shroud
of mournful comfort isn’t easy.
The first utterances feel like
the middle of August without shade.
©Susie Clevenger 2015
Comments
xoxo
“Pity has paid its penance" -
Thanks for participating Susie & wishing you a happy week ~
Like a fall, a person just wants to lay there for a bit. But unlike the fall, hardly anyone wants to help the person back up.
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Jim H at the Office Depot store in Tomball today for a bit. I'd rather be home.
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