An impostor sun rises <br />on separate pillows <br />between <br />the two lying in state <br />untouching. <br /> <br />Dawn stands up only to hesitate <br />in that morning light which darkens <br />immediately on a loveless bed. <br /> <br />The pillow mint is rock hard; <br /> <br />Wilted Roses have bled. <br /> <br />He speaks: <br />'You know <br />I have been <br />faking it.' <br /> <br />She says 'me too'. <br /> <br />It was not Sunrise. <br />It was a Rosy-Thorned beginning; <br />not light; <br />but a paler night; <br />not day; <br />but it was less dark; <br />not yet New Love <br />but no longer hardened hearts <br />feigning. <br /> <br />Not new flowers <br />but a tiny seed <br />promising first <br />only pale redemption <br />and later perhaps more.<br /><br />Lonnie Hicks<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/rosy-thorned/
