When the sun went down on that summer day, <br />Who then could have known or guessed <br />That it would rise next morning on a world <br />That was forever changed and darkened. <br /> <br />The summer should be a joyous time, <br />Fragrant with flowers and ripening fruits <br />And with fields heavy with the the coming harvest. <br />Bright with the laughter of carefree children. <br /> <br />But that night the harvest was blighted, <br />The flowers lost their heart to bloom, <br />And the fruit shriveled and fell from the trees. <br />Because a warm, bright light had been rudely quenched. <br /> <br />That day passed, and the next, and the next. <br />The turning year brought the fresh promise <br />Of a new and unspoiled harvest, <br />Unsoaked by the streams of innocent blood. <br /> <br />But for the hearts that had felt the pain and blight, <br />It was too late for the new-sprung foliage <br />To offer a flowering of hope and healing, <br />Too late for the harvest of the heart to bloom again. <br /> <br />Written on the loss of a friend by violence<br /><br />Cheryl Swain Burbage<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/forever-changed/
