In the winter of my discontent,
I thought of all the wasted years
And searched for absolution
In blush Chablis and tears.
I resurrected childhood dreams
From beneath their weathered stones
And spread them so the merciless sun
Could tiptoe through their bones
I fanned them around me in the sand,
Where they formed a puzzle on the ground,
So I looked for answers in the sky,
In hopes a god was looking down.
Yet silence was the sole reply
To the question of my years
As I glimpsed my future—
Dust to dust—
Along with blush Chablis and tears.
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The magical style of this author guarantees her name to be etched on the eternal doors of Poetry.
In admiration,
Andre Emmanuel Bendavi ben-YEHU