Bitter Phantoms

Echoes of empty voices at midnight

Relics of a past long henceforth dissolved

Lay upon the thin cotton sheets in slight

Movement before thou’st ponders thus absolved

Her sweet music box voice, gently lilting

Like the tone of butterfly wings flapping

His tongue-in-cheek laugh, charismatic grin

Like the last smile of sunset’s rose chagrin

Fireflies float lazy, dot o’er vast fields

Mourned nightingale twitters, lost in the dark

Yet my saturnine heart I’ve chose to wield

A somnolent moonrise without a spark

Erstwhile must broken memories haunt thee?

Bitter phantoms’ lullabies hummed softly.

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Filed under Fixed Poetry, Poetry

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