The end of all things

Painting by Gebhard Fugel


All things end in sadness,

If only because all things must end,

All the summer-sweet memories,

Tinged with bitter brown,

Now that the page is turned,

The petals fallen.

What once was vivid, ice-bright,

To make the skin tingle with that almost touch,

Sifts now, sand-dry, through scrabbling fingers.

The past casts its dusty veil,

Tidies happiness away into a dingy box,

Where sunlight will never fall again,

And all the tears shed in joy,

A simple presage of last tears of sorrow.

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

11 thoughts on “The end of all things”

    1. I’m sure you’re right. It just seems to me that there is always sadness in a memory simply because it’s a moment that has passed and can never be recaptured.

  1. Memories are part of ourselves,they may bring us sadness but we never realy lose them. The moments that passed built what we are today. we will always cary them in our souls.. realy beautiful poem.

    1. Thank you 🙂 We are what we remember, I suppose, a cumulation of memories good and bad. The happiest will always be among the saddest simply because their time has gone.

    1. It’s the way it feels sometimes. I know that memories, especially photographic memories are supposed to recapture a moment, but it’s more often the contrast between then and now that hits me in the gut.

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