by Joelly Cameron

Columbine’s sweet fragrance dangles.

Like a rusted clasp on a string of pearls, while

the morning doves obsessively peck at nothing. The,

pair, life’s ethereal mate.

No, bands to bind them. Only

the soft echoes of their calling. 6,

am nursery rhymes, While,

last night’s drink still sits. Warm,

Left alone to enjoy the moon’s stories.

It’s, contents removed quietly.

Like, an infant nursing on a mother’s breast.

Now, filled with the wet ends of stale cigarettes.



2 Comments to “Columbine”

  1. This was beautiful I love the line “No, bands to bind them. Only / the soft echoes of their calling.” Never stop writing! (:

If you enjoyed the poem. please leave a comment.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: