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The pain of separation and
divorce to often come to affect so many of us. There are few who
can truthfully say they have never known the feeling. Mine
was no different and in a futile effort I wrote to express my
situation. For several years nothing seemed to fit until one day
my pen seemed to have a mind of its own and I wrote the following words
without effort. Her name was Roxana K. Sanchez.
Lost Love
© 1982 Gilbert P Belmudez
Walking through the mist of rain I found no answers
to my futile search for words until the day
that raindrops fell upon the leaves
and became reflections of her memory.
Raindrops forming.
Shaping and glancing
as do those things
that make souls harden
but only enough
to avoid the bruising
if pressed once to often wrong.
Reflections that stirred the thoughts
of lips that once pressed upon mine
and secrets known
by only two.
Reflections
of youthful pleasures shared
when no one else
stood within her arms.
Then, like burning arrows shooting into the rain,
the fires faded and memories scattered
throughout the darkened skies
as raindrops created rusting colors.
Reflections
of one whom I once loved.
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