Written for Paul Brookes' ekphrastic challenge - one poem a day in April 2021.
April Shower
I hear the breeze rise through the woods
where, in other years, you would have walked.
I listen for the haunting notes that followed you
but nothing drifts across the April air. I wonder
if you still play, your lips on that thin reed;
your breath, enclosed in maple, ready to vibrate
and pull me, an entranced snake,
through the house into the white-walled room;
your eyes closed, fingers moving on their own
and me, alone with just an empty chair.
A sudden squall has brought the April rain
and drives me to the cover of the trees
I watch it splash in puddles, see it drip
from spring's new leaves, washing you away.
Tim Fellows 2021
No comments:
Post a Comment