The Poetry Marathon

Silence

echoed,

no, not silence

Emptiness.

Loss.

The last breath,

which meant

there would be

no more.

Loss so new

there were no tears.

just silence,

the emptiness of

no more.

The heart was

Onyx

hard and

black with hurt.

A trail of white hope

strove to survive.

A chip, then a small crack

etched it’s way through the black,

wearing away pain.

Disappointment was dusted away

and hope had room to grow.

The crack gathered strength

and blackness was shattered off.

White hope remained.

A new heart began

expanding and contracting,

receiving hope,

giving life.

Once more able to beat.

Hi! Each year I try to do something or learn something new. The marathon is definitely new. I have been writing since junior high, mostly because I won an essay contest and thought writing was fun. One year I worked on writing a book of haiku. My kids and I spoke in fluent ‘haiku’ for a long time after that. I write kid stories and have tried short stories but I am a poet. I really hope you will enjoy what I write for you here. Aleta

Looking to see where to post poems

hoping I found it

Set an alarm in my phone calendar

sometimes I think it is Friday when it is only Tuesday.