Afterward

Afterward

Your absence would work no hardship on me
But, oh, how the sofa would cry
The kitchen would be lonely
And your flowers would wither and die
‘Neath trees outside, seeming to say
That they've lost their sway
‘Neath a sun that cares neither for day
Nor stillness that welcomes night
And nothing seems right
Not even dawn's gentle glow
No…
It would work no hardship on me

by VICTOR WILKIE

Comments (1)

Victor, such a fine poem👍👍👍