SHORT-LIVED



The wait was long, herculean
But for the treasure, i bide my time.          
You nudged the periphery of my being 
Even as i watched the sparkle leave your eyes.

When the shadow that dug a furrow in your face was expunged into insignificance, the gleam in your brown egg eyes became the death of my eternal equanimity.

Despite the effervescent glow of your eyes, the smile that eviscerated 
the last vestiges of my of my lassitude 
died before the day was done.


Comments

  1. Hussein Hashim31 October 2020 at 13:09

    The picture is that of the person to whom this poem was addressed. The feeling is as real as that smile...

    ReplyDelete

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