Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2013
In the mornings now
I walk through the garden of my tears
Harboring secret thoughts
Of your return
As I wipe dust off
The fragmented flowers
Residing there.

During those times
Oft sighted
The smallest wren sits
Atop a silvered rose
Warbling tunefully in my ear
Reminding me of songs left unsung.
copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2013
Audrey Howitt
Written by
Audrey Howitt
832
   ---, Weeping willow, --- and Lana
Please log in to view and add comments on poems