Cost

I can’t be certain,
but waiting in breath-held clouds
while the sky cantankered on the knoll
I was surely petrified.

When later I fought to rise
from knees wasted in prayer
my robe caught on the buckle
of the lone soldier’s obstinate shoe.

Salt tears, searing pain
from your desperate wrench
and the high price of absolution,
hung, sharped, in the setting night.

And we will never be away, or will we?
Can we ever utter gladly,
Now we are done with this?
For the home we made together
is still reflected in reddish water.

Published by

Julia Dean-Richards

Julia is a writer and performer living in the Shropshire hills. Her writing is a product and expression of the love she has found whilst journeying through the most difficult times of her life.

5 thoughts on “Cost”

  1. Bloody hell, Julia. As you know, I simply do not GET a lot of poetry, and often do not even bother to try. But I got this… I think. Maybe I got something you didn’t intend. I don’t care. This is bloody miraculous

  2. This is so very good Julia. Are we ever done? Absolution… Your words portray the angst and grayness so well

please feel free to comment on these poems - all feedback appreciated. :)

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