In Your Absence

stars fall from measure,
marrow waxes from the bone,
sackcloth sings of you!

miss you
read more takes on the prompt:  measure



  1. Love the title and I think titles are integral to a poem not to be treated as afterthoughts. The sackcloth has weight, conjures an image to hang on.

  2. I read this differently Dear… for myself it sincerely says that that we, as humans, are completely dependent on God, and unless we are humble, we will wax into ashes ~ wonderful writing !

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