Patches
Black silk and red toned patches
lying still as marbled granite
atop the copper heating vent
an effort to heat your bones
I lift your icy body
as my salty tributes fall
The grass already brown as if to pay respects
My shovel digs deep enough to bury
the piece of my heart that will never again feel
the warmth of the copper vent
that failed to heat the bones of patches
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.