Dropped
The night is a broken cup,
its last sip spilled
from a shattered edge.
My thirst unslaked,
I dream
dry dreams
that go unquenched
by morning’s
gentle rains.
The dVerse Poets prompt was to write a poem that was an extended metaphor. Brief poem? Brief metaphor.
lifelessons - a blog by Judy Dykstra-Brown 
Beautifully metaphoric!
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Lovely.
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This is wonderful Judy. It emphasizes the fragility of night, meaning to me that we take our joys of the day, our fears, our expectations to our sleep, all that we experienced in that day – the sum of which can bring a peaceful night, or an unsettling one. We can awaken calm and refreshed, or frazzeled and exhausted – it is fragile. In the context of this particular situation, as expressed in the poem, the morning did not prove light and upbeat, but darker.
…rob from http://www.image-verse.com
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Incredible photos and words on your site, Rob, but I can’t find anyplace to “like” or leave a message. Luckily, this poem is fiction at this stage..just based on memory. Happy to say I rarely awaken in distress these days unless it is physical distress, and it has been months since even that marred my awakenings. No pain like that pain of younger days and lost love!
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Well read, Rob.. and a further clue lies in the metaphor in the title.
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This poem is really touching, and the metaphor well executed. (If that’s the right word?)
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Metaphor is exactly what the prompt was. Thanks, Christine.
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Very good! .
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I find this one to be stunning! Puts me in mind of Robert Frost!
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Thanks, Carol. That is praise indeed.
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