River of Pain
Where river reeds wave final hour
and faintest pleas of guilty wane,
pale tear drops salt her silken lips.
Crowned lady casts her closing bower.
Last candle burns o’er mirrored pain,
sans lover’s stroke of finger tips.
By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders, 10/30/13
for Nette Onclaud's SENSES FOR A SESTET Contest
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