In this memory
I can once again hear her
She was an uncanny music
Sitting on the park bench
In the rain
Somehow very clement
In the downpour

“Are you too stupid to get out of the rain?”

Amused with my response
She pulled back her ebon hair
Smiled up at me with
Chocolate amber eyes

“You aren’t afraid of the thunder?”
I find it exciting

In this memory
I can once again hold the rich
Smell of her in the rain
Her face
Her hands
Simply vanished
There was only her

Suddenly the sun
Broke through
I tried to hold her
But she . . .
Tried to hold the fire
In the clay
She turned . . .
Tried to hold back the light
Turned away . . .
And she was gone

Perhaps you don’t believe me
But this flower
Never dies
And that is why I carry it here
In the rain

Published by

Chyfrin the Celtic poet

Artist, Poet, Electrical/Biomedical Engineer, Actor, Playwright, Set construction, Educator, Lover of womankind and single malt scotch

One thought on “Phaedra”

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