Lonnie Hicks - Rosy-Thorned

An impostor sun rises
on separate pillows
between
the two lying in state
untouching.

Dawn stands up only to hesitate
in that morning light which darkens
immediately on a loveless bed.

The pillow mint is rock hard;

Wilted Roses have bled.

He speaks:
'You know
I have been
faking it.'

She says 'me too'.

It was not Sunrise.
It was a Rosy-Thorned beginning;
not light;
but a paler night;
not day;
but it was less dark;
not yet New Love
but no longer hardened hearts
feigning.

Not new flowers
but a tiny seed
promising first
only pale redemption
and later perhaps more.

Lonnie Hicks

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/rosy-thorned/