Still, a poem by Carmen Frech Oliveri at Spillwords.com
Mario Wallner

Still

Still

written by: Carmen Frech Oliveri

 

Still was the breath upon his little chin.
Bursting gently, was the mother’s cry,
within the pain, the sorrow wins,
and yet she said goodbye.

In the walls, there is a loud, gusting wind
crushing souls in its wake…
The room, with sadness rimmed
Yet she gently smiled, crooked and fake.

Sparkled, the cherub sits on golden sheets.
Embraced and loved, endlessly.
She kissed his feet,
humming lullabies, fervently.

“And I loved you so, in the way the clouds love sunrise.
The tender dove, always, in my eyes.”

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