We will be stones
which have fallen
from the bank of loneliness
to the river of marriage,
smooth stones
shorn of our stubby shields,
the river mortar and pestle,
each moment a soft
rubbing of rapture,
a wearing of self
until only the river remains.
Jeff Burt lives in Santa Cruz County, California. He has work in Thrice Fiction, Star 82 Review, and Mobius: Journal for Social Change.
Categories: Poetry
Tags: e-zine, ezine, hyperbole, Jeff Burt, longing, melancholy, melancholy hyperbole, new, poem, poet, poetry, poets, submit, Vow, writing
Melancholy Hyperbole 
Lovely flow and extended metaphor.