Is like
walking into a river
trying to reach the other side,
she stands there in sweet
demeanor,
elegant and swift
the current sweeps underneath
binds my ankles
rips me underwater
like a tethered piece of rope
the last thing I see
is her melancholy
watching me drift away,
a soft tear
a glance over her shoulder,
as the forest
embraces her silent
departure.
© Scott F Savage 3/2020
 | a quiet man on Haiku Love |
 | Yernasia Quorelios on Haiku Love |
| a quiet man on I Took A Walk |
 | Priti on I Took A Walk |
| Priti on I Took A Walk |
Turning trauma into triumph since 1981.
Sometimes writing poems let's me forget about the huge sums of debt I'm accumulating while at college
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