Wings, adapted to rise in tempest’s
tantrums or tears, have folded, dull
with thin wisps of extinguished love.
Red candle aflame shone with heat;
yet physic’s lessening, fate’s decree.
Darkened room fades into shadow,
left only with sorrow’s chill gleam.
Photograph by Anita Sedberry
at Harold Ross Fine Art Photography.
Carrie is today’s host of The Sunday Muse.