Thursday, April 16, 2009


Our love was a wounded animal,
Seeking a place to die.

There were no darkened forest depths,
No den where it might hide;

Only the cruel sun of passion
In a sky of despair.

Stephen Brooke ©2009

In a sijo-like form, though certainly not a sijo in any traditional sense.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Short but profound. Passion, that 'living thing' comes to the end , pain represented by the nowhere-to- hide feeling. Sad, and descriptive of pain and loss.