winter rain by anelephantcant
Click here to hear the poet read his words:
her eyes
she feels the heartache deep inside
she feels the wind blow through her eyes
she understands the poet’s heart
she knows why he lies down and cries
she has a gently loving soul
she never intends to cause him pain
she knows that she has numbed his heart
like icy Scottish winter rain
she remembers when she was with him
he felt the sunshine of her smile
he basked in happiness and warmth
he worshipped her in style
he adored her laughter and her art
he laughed too when she was there
she loved his funny accent
he loved her tangled mane of hair
and yet somehow they parted
the distance growing ever greater
she ponders if what came to pass
was inevitable sooner or later
she feels the heartache deep inside
she feels the wind blow through her eyes
she understands the poet’s heart
she knows why he cries and why he dies
anelephantcant 
This was is interesting. She could be a lover, a lost love, but also very easily a poetic muse, or both. Sometimes we lose are muse as writers & finding it again can be hard. Losing it can feel like losing something we love. Or it can very much be related. My good friend Single Dust lost her son this past Christmas. Today, I read one of her first long posts, she used to always write such as this, but her posts have been, understandably, sparse until now. She could very much relate to this, as she wrote that she lost her “word” when her son died as he often inspired and read her poetry and other writing. I’m glad it has returned for her and I hope for this speaker too, Elephant, the muse and/or his love returns. Hugs.
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Si triste !
Mais tellement beau
💔
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Merci, Corine
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