On the Day After the Wake

by James W. Catt

On the day after the wake
I was given a box of dried out husks, like seeds
baked in the sun.
her love was a tear withered in its shell,
all that was left was ashes and dust in a tin box.
the parting gift of a parched life
was all she had to give.

I am formally an artist, but the urge to write over came me like a door blown open by the wind. I love to read and enjoy music

Last updated April 26, 2017