Sunday Wordle #71: link, recipe, operator, fence essentials, chain, rose, forgiven, dusk, trace, pencil, empty

She Waited

She stood on the front porch
at dusk, one hand tracing
the carved pink rose on silver
pendant hanging on a heavy chain.
Though it pressed, imprinting her
with oval mark as if outlined
with pencil, she did not feel
the weight, simply clasped
what now passed for
the essential tangible part
of him, touching what he had
touched when there was joy
in looking forward, when she
did not yet know the recipe
for emptiness.  Her eyes
came to rest upon the white
wood fence, desperately
in need of fresh paint.
They would never be forgiven,
those operatives of war,
who convinced her young man
that they needed him
in this time of combat.  Ten years
later, the clock has not moved.

Written for Sunday Whirl/Wordle #71

About purplepeninportland

I am a freelance poet, born and bred in Brooklyn, New York. I live with my husband, John, and two charming rescue dogs–Marion Miller and Murphy. We spent eight lovely years in Portland, OR, but are now back in New York. My goal is to create and share poetry with others who write, or simply enjoy reading poetry. I hope to touch a nerve in you, and feel your sparks as well.
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12 Responses to Sunday Wordle #71: link, recipe, operator, fence essentials, chain, rose, forgiven, dusk, trace, pencil, empty

  1. tmhHoover says:

    Elegant words for such a sad loss. Sara you have stopped time – we stand with her for awhile.

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  2. Green Speck says:

    Amazing poem !!!

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  3. Awww..how sad. I never dreamed she would have lost her love to war. Mind you, any loss of love for whatever the reason is always so sad. Really LOVELY wordle!
    Thanks so much for all the comments you left today, I’m touched. 🙂

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  4. PJF Sayers says:

    Sara, this is sad, but beautifully penned.

    Pamela

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  5. Mary says:

    The wordle words were lost in this poem, so sad but well expressed. So many excellent wordings: operatives of war, recipes for emptiness. Unfortunately too many young men are lost to these same circumstances.

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  6. Norma Ruttan says:

    such a well-penned poem so full of sadness

    Like

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