Tastes of Leaving, a Poem

This quadrille was written for dVerse where we were asked to use the word “sip.” If you’d like to join in, click here.

(c) Sascha Darlington

Tastes of Leaving

Sip of shiraz, bittersweet succulence upon the tongue, yet tastes of packed bags, angry midnight words, of your leaving, muffled footfalls casting shadowy prints in the soft snow powder, splintered crystal, heart in shards, whispered words: Who is she? Frown, no one you know.

Sascha Darlington


Advertisements

6 replies »

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.