When last the afternoon
spoke upon broken lives
a slow heartbeat of sad
fortune would allow
a silence.
For while love
might be forever
drawn the reality
of shattered dreams
spoken.
Out loud the river
runs deep with
somber current
an epiphany in steady
flow
Thought to be gibberish
real moments of despair
lost in a lush forest
holding strong in her
memory.
Would he that cry
within the summer
breeze a faltering
echo screams of need
forsaken.