|photo credit: AlicePopkorn via photopin cc|
A poem is no place for a heart that’s breaking,
No place for broken things, crippled by the fall.
What words can adequately describe love’s loss,
Or meter catch the tremor of a pulse’s fading?
No, a poem is not the place for heart break –
It provides no salvage of a wreck
sunk beyond hope.
And it’s no good counting crows for a sign
Of restoration, trust returned, love reawakened.
Your doom is spoken in the harsh call of the first,
As its circling shadow falls on your shoulders.
No, a murder of crows will not bring redemption –
No matter a tally of three or four,
good cannot follow bad.
Then, recite no poems when your heart’s breaking,
Those salt coarse lines will not ease your pain.
And count no crows for a lover’s forsaking,
The signs will not keep your sorrow at bay.
No, stick to the facts, the cause and effect –
Nothing can be cured by supposition,
an end is an end. No more.
Björn Rudberg has featured the poetry of Swedish poet, Karin Boyes, on The Sunday Mini-Challenge.
This was also inspired by Friday's challenge, Superstition or Science?