Suzanne was the type of girl you could talk to about words and she wouldn't get bored. She loved literature and poetry. She was constantly trying to get her poems published in contests. We would spend hours chatting about her upcoming writing career.
She called me up one night and said she just had to read her latest creation aloud to someone and she knew I wouldn't mind. When she was done she told me her latest work was dedicated to me and she was entering it in a contest under my name. I asked her why not take the credit for the work with your own name? She said it would be fun to write under a ghost name since famous writers tended to do that. I let her have fun with her little joke and promised when the poem received its due praise I'd be honest and tell the world who really wrote it.
Needless to say, Suzanne moved away to the East coast not long after that. We both said we'd keep in touch but you know how that usually goes. I never knew if her poem made it farther than the post box but here it is for old times sake.
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| 'Trees and Sky' Photo by: quinet |
Heaven
I watched the snow flurries falling from mysterious, shrouded heavens last night.
I watched as those pure-white, glittering sprinkles,
frozen tears from the faces of the angels
dusted the slumbering earth with perfection.
Poor Snowflakes
Cast from divinity down into the sullied world of flesh
to breath the finite breath of humanity,
and lie forever in the hands of time.
They lived shortly, quietly, brilliantly
giving only one brief scintillating flash of God
And then mortality.
I watched the snow flurries falling from the mysterious, shrouded heavens last night.
And for a moment I believed that I could see the very curtains of the sky fall away
Leaving only the glow of my spiritual haven forever
burning like a cinder in the depths of my eyes.
April 4, 1994
by: Suzanne Derryberry
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