Lost Loves in February

A wise tale speaks of Cardinals or red birds being the departed, paying visits to the living,  on cold days of winter.
Northern_cardinal_423484_7
There is an antique brass urn
Now the coldest day at noon
And the crystal snowflakes gather
There is a prism in my room
Its cold in here I noticed, picking up your urn
Speechless, I stood, having nothing to say
In quietness, from my eye, as I began to turn
A white feather lingers downward in a sun-ray
Dangling freely in the air, it looked, as if, to loom
Are you here? I soberly whispered on this icy day
In silence hear your specific loved tune
The one you hummed and then knelt to pray
That feather came to rest upon my pillow
Is this your sign, I asking, did you come to lay?
Outside blows the branches of a Willow
Yes, just as if any other day
There’s an antique brass urn
Now the coldest day at noon
And the crystals snowflakes gather
There is a prism in my room
 ~
 ~
©2016 WP Bojenn. All Right’s Reserved
Youtube: Little Anthony Tears on My Pillow

2 thoughts on “Lost Loves in February

Thanking all lovely thoughts today

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