When you renounce me
I will have already refused you
I once looked with comfort onto your reassuring
face
Now I have turned entirely away from you
the face that gave me contentment
has abandoned me
like the withering flowers that smelled
of lilacs.
Slowly, as if no one remembers them,
they will die
as I will not remember you.
Like a lighthouse suddenly stops giving
warning flashes to danger to ships in
high seas,
I will no longer answer your loving call to me
as if I have been paralyzed by medicin or the
omen of a burning tree
My touch to you will relinquich all of my love
all of my love. . . if you have forgotten about me
. . . but . . . if you remember me
little by little, hour by hour, day by day
I will remember you.
About the Creator
Julie Unruh
Julie Unruh grew up in Montezuma, Kansas. She is a human and animal rights activist living in Lawrence, Kansas
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Fortitude
“I will never get there,” as she read those words, feeling that they were directed at her. She imagined that she would never get to breathe in the exotic fragrance, touch the artifacts, or see the beauty in simple things no one pays attention to anymore. Like smelling the air in the Sistine chapel, see the sun coloring the sky with its beautiful hues as it slid slowly to bed behind the pyramids, visiting the mysterious books in Alexandria’s remaining library, smelling their souls as she turns the pages of parchment in awe of the foreign words.
By Julie Unruh6 years ago in Poets
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