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Poems

Writers Week: Late (poem)

August 25, 2020
photo by Daniele Levis Pelusi

I was late,

too late to see her.

I saw her in my front.

Standing there in all her beauty.

Her hair shined.

Her skin ambient.

Her eyes glimmered.

Her smile radiant.

She danced to the tune of life.

I was late, too late to see her.

Her hair dulled.

Her skin lurid.

Her eyes dimmed.

Her smile faded.

She danced away in death’s arms.

I was late,

But I was never too late to love her.

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