A hairbrush lies on the middle of a bare dresser
As dust cascades beside a sunlit window pane
A telephone rings out in an empty apartment
As the rain glows underneath a streetlight outside
A balloon is caught and disappears in the wind
Below the field of corn that murmurs as it bends
That door doesn't close. I don't want it to close.
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Author:
beano (
Offline) - Published: July 5th, 2021 02:38
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 22
Offline)
Comments4
A starkly vivid scene. Very focused. There's an absence of time when I read this. Thumbs up!
Hi Eugene. Thanks for taking the time to read and comment. Appreciated!
those remnants of tangible, hope
where all that survives
the shredding of Time
is a glimpsed, idealised scene
and fortunately, meaningfully
that's - just about: enough...
such a wonderful poem
thanks for sharing dear poet
Dear poet, thank you for your generous insight and comment!
Very intriguing write beano and a great image of departed love.
Andy
Hello Andy. Thank you for taking the time to read and comment on this. Appreciated!
I so love short and atmospheric........ I see the room, I see the past.
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