Scarletts Melancholy
What did Scarlett know;
her green velvet dress
was made from draperies.
What did Scarlett feel;
hunger
more than Brett's love?
Did Love burn like Atlanta
in her breast;
did Hope incinerate there?
Or is it that flames
don't burn
because they're already afire?
Was Brett the ice and Scarlett the flame?
Does Fire Love more than it burns?
Are we all at base visceral
and Love a luxury
which cannot compete
with green dresses
made from draperies?
Is all of this Cruel Irony
which sears
the soul
as we choose
food and soil
instead of sweet Love's face
and instead hunker down
just outside our
Forsaken Dreams;
disheveled and confused?
Too sad this tale
but bright too
because Scarlett knew
that even as she
contemplated Love's Abandonment
for Security
that green drapes
don't really cuddle at night;
and while Brett was not her love
he was Love's Embodiment
and for her
the Soul's
the only True
Nourishment.
[...] Read more
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Added by Poetry Lover
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