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The funeral for supposed love
by Anastasia ShowsYoung and naive.
She was just a child
who ran away with her imagination.
Alone in the wilderness, she
came upon the logger with the
broken hand, spirit, heart.
She nursed him back to health
spent all the wealth of knowledge
she had acquired over the years
about love
on him.
a note hammered to the
homemade bedpost
took the wool off her eyes
and burried her inexperience. 04/21/2008 Posted on 04/21/2008
Copyright © 2026 Anastasia Shows
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Charlie Morgan on 04/21/08 at 09:36 PM ...anastasia, i s'pose i'm your new fan, mylady this is keen[keen as in sharp] a small package o' dyn-o-mite...charlie |
| Posted by Brian Roberts on 05/03/10 at 05:37 PM The final stanza was quite poignant and picturesque...the imagery of a "homemade bedpost" and a 'hammered note' mixes richly with the abrasive, abrading countenance of 'wool' and the effacement of a love now gone fugitive, back to wilderness. |
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