On Leave by Shari Jo LeKane-Yentumi

on

|

views

and

comments

Only whiskey burns the sorrow as she grieves.

Purple velvet once surrounded golden dreams.

Both a season and a reason left on leave.

Now a memory left blank before what seems

perfect chaos, called to order by the reaper.

Purple velvet once surrounded golden dreams.

By the dozen, once recall a time, were cheaper.

Less than most, they were swept away by fools.

Perfect chaos called to order by the reaper.

At the onset there were definitely rules,

most indifferent to meaningless attraction.

Less than most, they were swept away by fools.

Enter fate, interceding with reaction;

fate, all-knowing, even to the fatal blow,

most indifferent to meaningless attraction.

Left unnoticed, delivering a mighty show,

fate all-knowing, even to the fatal blow.

Only whiskey burns the sorrow as she grieves,

both a season and a reason left on leave.

 

Originally published in the Iconoclast literary magazine in June 2016.

 

shari-joShari Jo LeKane-Yentumi lives with her family in St. Louis, Missouri, where she writes poetry and prose. She consults, teaches creative writing to men in a maximum security jail, and works for civil rights attorneys. Shari attained a B.A. in English and Spanish and an M.A. in Spanish from Saint Louis University in Madrid, Spain and St. Louis, Missouri. She wrote a novel in verse, Poem to Follow, and her first book of poetry, Fall Tenderly. Many of her poems have appeared in multiple poetry anthologies and literary magazines worldwide. Shari considers herself a modern formalist, addressing contemporary issues in poetic verse with a stylized language.

Image: By Phil Long from Manchester, United Kingdom – Whisky, CC BY 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=50291942

Share this
Tags

Must-read

Two Poems by Jack Giaour

art opening   instead of a gun you use a camera   amputees are your subject    /these poor people/ you say   the walls of the gallery are dark prints pinned neatly under spotlight   //life...

Two Poems by Emily Webb

LACUNA Another sun unfurlsover chewing gumcanyons, long gnawedby your foothold. A corpus colossus,hippocamping: you couchin fault lines, hammockedwhite matter. Stroke mewith each toss-turn —a neuron-starved bender. Hypoxia will...

One Poem by Charlotte Van Schaack

Writing On The Wall   Even with the fear of haunted place, everyone is trying to become a ghost.          As in the paid...
spot_img

Recent articles

More like this

LEAVE A REPLY

Please enter your comment!
Please enter your name here