The Shadowed Hearth
The Villanelle of a Love That Will Not Die
The night returns yet you are never near
I wander halls where silence chills the bone
This lingering grief shall haunt me year by year
Through fading flame I see your face appear
A ghostly flame that trembles pale alone
The night returns yet you are never near
Each whispered breeze recalls your vanished cheer
The laughter lost the hearth where warmth had shone
This lingering grief shall haunt me year by year
I chase the wind but shadows leer and jeer
No hand to hold no voice to soothe my moan
The night returns yet you are never near
I curse the stars that mark your absence clear
Their cold light strikes my heart a stony throne
This lingering grief shall haunt me year by year
O memory relentless cruel austere
Bind me to echoes where your love has flown
The night returns yet you are never near
This lingering grief shall haunt me year by year
About the Creator
Tim Carmichael
Tim is an Appalachian poet and cookbook author. He writes about rural life, family, and the places he grew up around. His poetry and essays have appeared in Bloodroot and Coal Dust, his latest book.
Keep reading
More stories from Tim Carmichael and writers in Poets and other communities.
Day 4 of Quitting
If this is how sobriety feels, maybe it’s better to go through life a little buzzed… this, along with other hits like, I want to kill myself, I wish I was dead, and I’m going to throw myself off a bridge have been the only thoughts on rotation these past few days. I promise myself that if, in a month, I still feel like this (‘this’ meaning despondent, full of rage, and simultaneously numb) I can go back to smoking. Until mid-February though? Nicotine is off the table.
By sleepy drafts7 days ago in Longevity
Comments (2)
Very well executed! Truly deserves to be a Top Story 🖤 I love how you brought the line "This lingering grief shall haunt me year by year" back several times, like an haunting echo of grief. It works so well, I teared up thinking of the people I miss.
Ah. Relatable, in multiple ways. Your words perfectly convey the way longing feels like a prison of its own.