Viola Grey (Feb '73 / NZ)
Although you cradle gently,
wanting you has altered me
like a leaf, falling from it's branch
upon a solid oak tree.
What once was filled with lush life,
clinging to the pulse of your limbs,
has dried, faded, dropped from sight
and will never be the same again.
That careful breath you bestowed
with just one sweet kiss,
dries, arid, inside my throat -
run hoarse from dreams dismissed.
As I fall towards the earth,
to shatter upon graves of truth,
a sudden breeze catches me,
returns my heart- once more- to you.
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