You will hear thunder and remember me,
And think: she wanted storms. The rim
Of the sky will be the colour of hard crimson,
And your heart, as it was then, will be on fire.
That day in Moscow, it will all come true,
when, for the last time, I take my leave,
And hasten to the heights that I have longed for,
Leaving my shadow still to be with you.
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Comments
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An insightful comment it appears you have found something meaningful from this author and this poem; i agree the imagery of the storm here is very powerful, and the idea that things will be indelibly affixed, thank you...PK
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The poem seems to flow with her unique use of Nature without pastels, the personal tied in with the world around, and the addressing of her work to someone in particular. Stark images set up the grim satisfaction of betrayal repaid.
I have used this poem as the prompt for the contest, Make them Smile. http://allpoetry.com/contest/2438599
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