In the Field Where Roses Died

A Poem

Jillian Spiridon

--

Photo by Javardh on Unsplash

we walk across
damp earth,
the smell of rust
and rot
permeating
the lost fragrance
we once knew

look close now —
far more
than a fleeting glance —
and see
petals
ground to dust,
memories gone away

shed no tears,
my love,
for the lost thorns —
but mourn
life
in every shade,
nothing to reclaim

hell may await —
smoke collecting
on the far horizon,
red bleeding,
sunlight
retreating into smog,
no path clear —

but we persevere,
eyes ahead,
no room for looking
behind us,
calamity
hand in hand
with our present

onward — that’s where
we’ll search
for shreds and fragments
of peace,
hope
the only thing
worth fighting for

your roses died —
mine too —
but do not forget
new fields
await,
far from here,
this scarred land

grasping our hands,
surging forward,
waging war with reality —
such madness
yet
still we persist —
we always will

--

--