After-Words

 

A poem.


End of summer

and I come to find

the weather, patiently

it waits, a warming

damp, to wrap itself

around me

 

Air is sweet

and curves, as

after-words tumble

from the sky

 

I pick them up one by one 

heartbeat, tender, forever

pocket-sized I take them

on a journey

 

A meditation in blue –

of sky and sea

our favoured places

 

And when the wind turns

I will bring you

shells, stones, mandalas

of moth-wings

 

And you

will take my breath away.

© leila 2023
critique and comments welcome.
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stormwolf

Beautiful, simply beautiful. There is such a wistful and contemplative feeling in it and the last line seals it perfectly.
Alison x

slovitt

the feeling is very fine, and you bring “shells, stones, mandalas/of moth-wings” and he, “And you/will take my breath away.” and breathless, where do you two go next. good poem

ionicus

A nice, expertly crafted, poem full of lyricism. Up to your usual high standard.

gerry

So another Scottish lady, I wrote a poem about Arran some time ago — and yes I did enjoy reading this.
gerry x.

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