Friday, January 5, 2018

Upriver (Day 352)



They say fondness 
makes the heart 
grow absent.
Well, you’re miles away 
in a driving rain,   
telling me you’re sorry 
from the middle 
of a desert, 
under a flotilla 
of amethyst clouds.
Never again will I let on 
that I love you—
you never believed me
when I said it out loud.
You built your dam upriver 
from my valley, and 
that water’s not going 
to trickle down again.
The shadows grow longer 
even earlier now, and 
we’ll never be as green 
as we were back then.


(c) 2018, by Hannah Six
Image: Skeeze via Pixabay