Buddlia drooping
heavily-purple flowers
drip with butterflies.

haiku by Tracy WatsonBrown
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Memoriam

The face I see is one with drained flesh
Losing form and identity;
Bones breaking through the outer parts.
Hands, knarled and stiff,
Tense, unrelaxed
And hair wrongly arranged.

Life is gone- an empty shell remains
And yet you are the man
Who laughed and argued,
Frowned and shouted.
Here you lie, unnaturally silent,
Present and absent;
A torment to my imagination
And no comfort for my loss.

poem by Tracy WatsonBrown
Added by Poetry Lover
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