Aching

In increments
we measure the rain
as if centimetres
can quantify sorrow

A falcon has chased
the birds away,
naked, a tear-stained
tree stands alone

Our hearts resonate –
arms, like branches, aching.

(Image my own)

Published by

VJ

Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

34 thoughts on “Aching”

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