Tuesday, October 9, 2012

The Price

He didn't want to go. 
Her face,
a ghost's shadow
in the windowpane
pouring grief
through the rain . . . 
Should he remain? 
One last look --
his eyes ached --
or did they burn? 
Was fidelity really
too much
to learn?

1 comment:

Sherri said...

I love the stories your poems tell.

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