New Tender

©12-23-2020, Olan L. Smith

Blunt the sword that pierced my heart, when I loved you

So long ago, an unimaginable time, unremembered work

Of steel against flesh that enliven two hearts to a single

Beat. Who witnesses such romance remembers the pain

As well as two souls in the throes of passion laying one

Atop another, fleshly intercourse of not so secret passions.

Our vows crushed by the weight of living. and esteem

For those nearby who see it through, or we had pity

On the plight and channels too often guzzled water

Turned rancorous, even poison to the soul's character.

Plow the furrow deeper, conceive more children to bury

The hatred, set the cords unwoven by a burst coupling.

Yet, the heating of chilled winds warm, a storm dies,

And even infernos ice, from time-to-time. For a moment

I think, what if? If it would work in different conditions.

What if we were to plight our troth once more in the last

Minutes of life? Would love rekindle? Would sparks ignite?

Fresh tender? The winds change, a new stench recalled.