Photo © Enisa
What can flowers do to mask the scent of loss
Or horns to cover up the wailing cries
Parade triumphant — cheering, heedless crowds
What know they of this man who saved their lives
New ballads will arise for his last win
To laud the conquering hero at his best
But who among them held him while he slept
How many felt his skin against their breast
To mock the grayest day when he set out
The sun shines bright upon his funeral pyre
The banners dancing gleeful in the wind
Beckon me to join him on the fire
I alone hold vigil ’til the morn
To smoldering coals that harbor no sweet lies
For flowers cannot mask such noisome loss
And horns will never blunt my wailing cries
Word count: 126. Written for this week’s Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers challenge. Big thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting! Click on the link to read the other stories inspired by this photo, or to write your own.
I didn’t intend to write a poem this time, but you now how it is: poetry happens.
I apologize for how long it’s been since I’ve posted. I’ve been so busy with social stuff and work stuff that I haven’t had any time to write, or do much else either. Then I took a weekend off to attend a fun new (to me) science fiction and fantasy conference, FOGcon, in northern California. If any of you are near there, I’d be happy to tell you all about it!