By: Linda M. Crate

dew drops
hung their hymns in
the grass of
my hair
shining me silver as
the moon
i avoid the sun
lest he burn
me with
lust the color of your
hair
i couldn’t take another
golden lover
with charisma and false
sincerity
to bring more disaster
among my flowers;
no, i decided a long time
ago that
i would not be the
bride of bitterness
so i‘m letting
go of the sorrow you
danced into my
veins
because life’s too short to be
anything but happy.