Death on a Friday

Death on a Friday

We leave
in silence--
what else
is there to
say
when the last
word has
been uttered,
finished?
All the words
of new love
spoken--
meaningless.
Into
this despair
we go
scattered
like bits
of paper
torn
from a story--
an alphabet
to the wind.

18 Apr 03

© Copyright 2003, E. Granger-Happ, All Rights Reserved.

Contents - Lent, 2003

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