Even Ghosts Yearn

Sharing a poem by V.J., which addresses the prompt –

One Woman's Quest

Natural light preferable
to artificial – not the harsh
fullness of noonday sun
but softly filtered rays –
luxurious, inviting.

Love too, should be subdued,
gentle as a zephyr, not mythical
but yielding, mindful;
not worshipful nor boastful,
but comforting, warm

I am waning light,
the mistral wind wafting,
no longer a force of nature –
but smoke, spiralling,
vanishing into non-existence

And yet, even as shadows
spread, I yearn –
heart beating true,
not lost, not forgotten,
but withdrawn, humbled

passion mellowed
by toil of constructing walls –
grit and tar – scar’s long buried,
save the limping gait
of a ghost.

(Poem first appeared here July, 2018.  I am resubmitting for Ragtag Community’s prompt: humble.  Image from personal collection.)

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Categories: BrewNSpew Shares

3 replies

  1. love is myth
    as is a kith
    and kin
    which is a no way to win~!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. had to pee
    to be
    comfort
    walked a little
    and felt
    the cold
    thaw
    and then
    superb meal
    !!!

    Like

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