desert love

love is a
a tree
that flowers in
the desert

if it bears no fruit,
its branches
turn to
inevitable dust--

to be blown on
whispering winds
of sadness and grief
so deep,

even angels weep.

About This Poem

Style/Type: Free verse

Editing Stage: Not actively editing

About the Author

Country/Region: USA

Favorite Poets: Wallace Stevens

Comments

you can hear

the howling of the desert wind... harbinger of its insatiable hunger... swallowing all into its sands of forgetfulness... remarkable poem, this.

cryptic,

thank you.

"sands of forgetfulness...

would that I could. . .

Victor

I really like your writing

I'm not much of a commentator, but I like this poem... not quite as visual as "a normal day", but thoughtful, and thought provoking...........

Thanks for the read, Ed. Not

Thanks for the read, Ed. Not as visual perhaps, because emotions are not of fabric that can be seen, only felt, but have almost a tactile density that lie just beyond the edge of sight.

Victor

desert

the first stanza could have stood as a poem by itself...............scribbler

Stan,

I never looked at it like that, but you are right. I only wish that what brought this poem to life hadn't been the ending of another.

Thank you,

Victor

Thank you, Shirley!!

Always nice to hear from you.

Victor