Still life without you
The cupboard closes quietly as
it settles into place, a sigh of capture
intended. As reassuring as
a seatbelt sliding around me.
The old war-cupboard would still
be resounding, an echo of slams
descending from distant headlands,
the guns, my fingerprints everywhere.
The cupboard sits as silent as an
absence, a gap that exclaims,
remember I am still paused,
waiting in anticipation for more.
1 comment:
Hi Marty :) Thought it was about time I made the effort to drop in to blogger and announce my Wolfish presence! lol...typical that you're not even here ;) Anyway...enjoyed the poem, very good :) Hope all's well with you and I haven't forgotten you just finding it ridiculously time consuming trying to keep up with here, Wordpress, and twitter all at the same time! Self inflicted I don't deny but you know how it is... :)
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