Finally Forgiven
I watched her flowers wilt-
Somber, as my tears
were unable to resurrect
their perennial luster.
My bones brittle under the weight
of her cold, and lying smile;
I tried to sew my seed.
Foolishly plowing in soil muddied
by blood that was quickly becoming
clotted by history- Weakly reflecting its
cost by a sallow moon.
We cannot harvest what has been tainted.
We cannot sew seeds where soil has
roots rigid with anger.
And yet, I dug. Crimson hands staining
the tools her enchantment gave me.
Hoping they didn't break each time
I hit a stone that reminded me of her
once adamantine heart.
Slick with the salt of anguish,
I loosed the tools into shadow
where I prayed hope still found them.
Too weary to go on in the cold.
I lit a fire under the waining
reflection of my regret. Curled up.
Letting rotting branches kindle.
Praying for a warm Sun to work
under. Or rain to wash it all away.
I closed my eyes.
Pictured her working the Garden.
The way only she could.
Her smile became the Sun.
Everything began to bloom.
As I sank into the Earth.
Finally forgiven.
-James Kelley 2019
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