Friday, April 13, 2012

Bleeding Hearts

Bleeding Hearts

Hearts, strung on a line, each with a teardrop
suspended. So much suffering, so many people
the weight of all those tears
bends the stalks. They bow toward earth.
Sometimes I think that each of those hearts is mine, broken
again at your hand. But cherries blossom, too,
crabapples and tulips, and you
are far away, loving
and hurting
someone new.

Mary Stebbins Taitt
image credit: mine, taken yesterday


henniemavis said...

I like the series of brief poems you have been posting recently. So fun to come on & read something brief, inspiring, beautiful &/or pensive. A nice little break in my day to think of you... &/or other topics, brought forth by you :-)

John said...

Beautifully vibrant photograph and words Mary and at times so true to life!

Mary Stebbins Taitt said...

Thank you both Hennie and John!!!!!

You are kind and thoughtful!!!

Hennie, you may now the person (people) the poem alludes to.