Sufferance is contained
in dawn’s uncomplaining hour:
as sunshine broods in the east
early dressed in mourning weeds,
unrequited hope seethes
on a newer horizon.
But such foolishness
will be relinquished
when the faint crescent moon
slips west into the underworld,
silver diminishing
beneath the blue colonnade
of endless days
waiting to be lived again.
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This poem is written with words from my Skylover Wordlist for February
and in reply to Joy Ann Jones' call for Flash 55 Fiction at
Verse Escape.
This is also an open invitation to anyone who wants to join me in writing poetry from this list of words. If you would like me to read and comment on your post, please paste the link in the comments section below or you can tag me on Instagram.